Finding the Strength
by ShootingStar96
Summary: After living through years of trauma, Tris Prior is moving from her broken home in New York to Chicago to live with her godmother, Tori. But Tris carries heavy secrets she wants to stay hidden as she tries to move on with her life in a new place. Will she be able to stay strong and move forward, or will the darkness consume her? (I changed the summary)
1. Prologue

**Prologue: **

I sit in my room, drawing, like every other night. I plug my headphones in to separate myself from the party going on down stairs. the football team won the first game of the season and are favorites for state. My brother Caleb, who is two years older than me, is one of the most popular guys at our school. He is so focused on his sports and getting stronger and better. Some people think it is just him wanting to be the best athlete he can be, but I know the real reason he does it. As much as he wants to deny it, he drains his misery in training. Thinking about sports and girls lets him forget about mom. He used to be really smart, and he was proud of that. But since mom died, he changed. He tries so hard to impress dad and not think about mom. But he doesn't deal with the worst of it, I do.

I look down at my work, I am not as good as my mom was, but I am close. She had a real gift, and I have been practicing for these past few years since it happened. We all have our different ways of dealing with our grief. Caleb drains his sorrow in football. My dad works all the time and does a lot of international trips. Me, I draw. It was something that we shared together, I was always closer with my mom than anyone else in my family and her death hit me the hardest. I look down at my necklace, which is a long chain with my mother's wedding ring on the end. I've been wearing this for four years, a constant reminder that she is always with me.

I was eleven when it happened. She went to go see an infamous Broadway show with some of her friends. I wanted to go so bad, but it was a school night and the show was really long. She was on her way home in the taxi, when the car flipped and she was killed. I still don't understand all the details, and I don't know when I will ever be ready to hear them all. But I have not been in a taxi since, which is impressive considering I live in New York City.

Our family hasn't been the same since then. My father for some reason shuts me out and never acknowledges me. Caleb has taken a completely different road, one that I don't really want to pursue. The only person I feel close to anymore is my Godmother Tori. She and my mother were close friends and I visit her on occasion in Chicago. She owns a bunch of different bars and restaurants. Some are for adults, some for teenagers, some even for kids. She loves entertaining people and having a good place to hang out. When I visit her I don't usually go to these places, we just stay at her house. I have pretty much claimed the guest room as my own.

I hear a loud thud which brings me back to reality. The party downstairs. Dad is out of town like always and Caleb's team and half the school is celebrating another win. If you ask me, it wasn't that hard of a win. And yes, I am well aware of football from my brother. Because I have to go wherever Caleb goes, I have become sort of an expert on football and pretty much every other sport he is interested in. And whenever we get a rare appearance from our father, all that is talked about is sports. I could easily be a jock, but I don't want that. My mother and I used to run all the time, but she never did sports, just ran. So that is all I do. I guess trying to be like her makes me feel like she isn't gone.

Another thud. I guess I should go downstairs and see what's going on. I open the door and I am welcomed by the smell of alcohol. Figures, every room in our house is consumed with teenage partying, except my room. It is off limits for the others, and I am off limits from the party, like I actually want to be there. I find Caleb in the living room, already drunk with all the others in the house. If their coach found out, they'd be in huge trouble, but no one here would rat them out.

The second he sees me, he sobers up a little. "What are you doing here? You need to go back to your room. This is no place for a little freshman to be hanging around." On the exterior it looks like an older brother embarrassed by their little sister, which is what it is a little. But another part to it is he just doesn't want me around the others and have something bad happen.

"Oh come on man! Let her join the party and have a little fun. All she ever does is stay locked up in her room." Caleb's best friend Peter says. He is the line backer for the team and has a bunch of schools looking at him, like Caleb. He puts an arm around me. "You look like you need to have a little fun, and hey, I like to have fun" He hands me a beer, "We can have some fun."

I don't make it a habit to drink a lot, considering I'm only 15. But I take it anyway, needing a release. I've only been drunk a few times, and I hate to say it but I liked it. The feeling of forgetting everything else and the feeling of floating is a nice change. I am cautious as I drink through the night and after an hour and a half of 'relaxing', I call it a night.

"As much fun as it has been, I need to get to bed." I announce to the few people around me.

I hear a few complains and boo's, but I make my way to my room soon enough and just relax on my bed. I wouldn't say I was wasted or that drunk. But I can feel the alcohol in my blood stream. All of a sudden, my bedroom door opens and Peter is standing there. Before I know it he is on top of me. What is he doing?!

"Peter get off me" I try "Peter, you're drunk, get out of here. Get off me!"

"Oh, but why would I do that?" He slurs out. I can taste the beer.

I begin to scream, he doesn't have to say it but I know why is here. He grabs me and locks me down. He's on top of me and I can feel his hand grabbing me all over.

"Don't scream, no one can even hear you, and besides, I know you want this. You've gotten so hot." He begins to rip my clothes off and hit me. I can't believe this is happening to me. I scream as loud as I can till my throat bleeds, and I find no salvation. This is going to happen. I cry and beg him to stop, but it is worthless. He hits me over and over, then I see the pocket knife. He holds it to my throat and I freeze.

"You know I could tape your mouth, but that would be unpleasant. So just shut up you little bitch." He says.

I decide in that moment I won't stop, I will get through this and I will stop him. I fight with every ounce of my being, but it does not work. He is so much bigger than I am and he has the knife. I fight on, and then I feel the sharp blade make contact with my chest. I feel the blood drip down and I go into shock. He cut me. Then it happens, it is the most excruciating pain I have ever felt and then everything goes black.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

(Two Years Later)

I'm flying, high above the clouds. I'm trying to escape the horrors that haunt me everyday. Some may call me a coward, but I know what I've been through and how horrible it is to live through. The will to live is so hard, but I look down at my necklace, and it brings me back to reality. Living is a precious privilege and can get taken away at any second. Death is easy, life is what is hard. It is only an hour and a half flight to Chicago, but it feels like a lifetime. The sooner I get away, the better. Tori saved me, and I am going to go live with her now.

I have two scars, and I look down at the one Peter gave me, the one on my chest. He didn't cut me deep, just tipped the skin to leave a faint scar. I managed to fix myself up the next morning. It didn't surprise me that Peter threatened me to stay quiet, his words still haunt me. _"No one will believe you."_ The threat I expected, but not that part. The worst part was, he was right. I tried to keep quiet about it, mostly because I wanted to believe it didn't happen. Perhaps it was all just a horrible dream. But something like this doesn't stay hidden forever.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Chicago! I hope you had a pleasant ride. Please stay seated for a few more moments..." says the attendant. I don't really pay attention, because I flip my phone open and text Tori that my plane has touchdown. She asked me to tell her as soon as possible. Because I can't ride in a taxi she has to pick me up, but she needs to be at her bars most of the day.

Me: Just landed... but I don't know how long it will take to actually get off.

I get a response right away.

Tori: Okay, glad you're here. I'll be there as soon as I can but the place is pretty busy today. The team had their first scrimmage today and lets just say lots of sweaty boys.

That's understandable, school starts in a few days and I'm sure people are squeezing every last moment out. And Tori's place is pretty popular with the people who go to the high school, my high school. Ugh, I just want to get these last two years over with. I eventually get off the plane and make my way to baggage claim. I sit and wait for Tori, wanting so badly to see a happy face.

Tori's POV

I am peacefully waiting at the counter for the place to erupt with high schoolers. I got a text from Uriah saying they were coming, and well, I was ready. I like what I do. Managing a bunch of different restaurants and bars, but this one is my favorite. I like giving the teenagers a great place to hang out, especially one where alcohol is NOT served.

After what happened to Tris, I can't imagine another kid jumping off the deep end. Her mother's death was so hard on her, I know, Natalie was my best friend. But after the rape, she really broke. I was the only one who really believed her, and I tried so hard to push her to press charges, but all she pursued was drinking. I didn't even know about it until a few months ago. An alcoholic, she was an alcoholic at age 16. I still can't believe it. I convinced Andrew, her father, to help her, but all he did was send her to a special camp. I asked to have her stay with me, and he complied without hesitation, like she was extra weight. That girl deserves someone to love her, and a new start. The doors burst open and in comes a bunch of sweaty high schoolers.

"Hey Tori, we won!" says Uriah

"It was only a scrimmage you realize." says his girlfriend Marlene.

Uriah's brother Zeke pipes in, "Hey don't be hating! It is a good look at what's to come and my man Four is going to kill it at quarterback. We are so winning a city title this year!" As he says this he slaps Four on the back.

"And go undefeated! This year is going to be awesome." says Will who makes his way to Christina behind the bar. She is his girlfriend, and she works here at the bar for me. I love all these kids; they are all such good friends. I hope Tris can make friends with them. Just making one friend will be fine. My phone buzzes with a text from Tris, and I respond right away.

"Hey, sorry I can't stay for the celebration, but I have to go." I get a few 'awws' and 'boos'.

"Where you got to go?" asks Uriah.

"I have to pick my goddaughter up from the airport. I told you about her?"

"I didn't know you had a goddaughter, who is it?" says Will

Christina cuts in, "Oh yah, you told me about her. What was her name..."

"Tris. And she is going to be living with me. She is going to go to school with you guys this year. She will be a junior and she's really shy. I was going to ask you guys to look out for her, but I don't want you to scare her, too... Zeke, Uriah..."

They both manage a playful "Hey!"

I laugh, but turn serious, "But really, she's been through a lot, and I just want her to be happy."

"What happened?"

"That's her business, and I can't talk any longer. I have to go, and don't burn the place down. I'll be back in a little bit."


	3. Chapter 2

I do not own anything!

**Chapter 2:**

Tris' POV

We pull up to 21U, her teenage 'bar'. It is where the school has been celebrating. Pretty much all the walls are all glass and I can see inside. While most of the crowd has filed out, there are still a few who are still hanging around.

"You might want to change into some different clothes." says Tori. I look down at myself and agree with her. I've been wearing these clothes for a while now, and I've taken off the sweatshirt I'd worn during the flight. That wouldn't seem like a problem except if I'm not careful, my chest scar could show. Tori knows how insecure I am about what happened and how much I want to keep it to myself. We walk in and I go straight to the back without getting the attention of anyone.

Once I'm alone in Tori's office bathroom, I take a breath. I have my carry on backpack. I dig around in it to find the change of clothes I packed. I just dump all the contents onto the floor and dig around. I see the my pain medicine, my scar removal cream (that barely works), my sober badge, my sketch book, and my clothes. I have a big t-shirt, leggings, and a big sweatshirt, which I probably won't put on. As I change, I see the other scar. Right at my bikini line, it is where they had to slice me open for the C-section. Yes, I still see her precious face.

I try to remind myself I made the right decision to give her up for adoption, considering the only reason I was having her was because I was raped. After it happened, I didn't want to tell anyone. But you can't really hide a pregnancy from the world. When people asked who the father was, I couldn't tell them. Peter's words still hung around me. Caleb made me brake and when I finally told him what I had been denying, that his best friend raped me, he didn't believe me. My own brother did not believe me, his sister. Soon word spread and let's just say, things went bad. People called me names and Peter was right, they didn't believe me. You'd think that after I had the baby, people would forget, but it only got worse. That's when I started drinking.

As much as I hate Peter for what he did to me, I hate my brother more. He made our mom a promise when we were really little that we would look after each other. He promised _her_ that he would look after me. And he broke his word. To mom. I will never forgive him for what he did and I hope I never see him ever again.

I get into new clothes, checking for my chain with my mother's ring around my neck and my anklet. I got it for her, my baby; the couple agreed to give me yearly pictures of her. Tori was the one who got me the anklet. It is a simple chain with a rose. That's her name, Rose. I walk out to the others. Tori is standing at the bar preparing a bunch of root beer floats. The other people look happy, really happy. I wonder what it's like to be happy like that; it's been so long since I've felt like that.

I walk over to a booth in the corner with my sketch book and pencil. At 'camp' they encouraged me to turn my pain to art. How cliche. I flip through my book. I have turned Peter into the monster he really is in these pages. My latest drawing is one a little baby girl, my baby girl, bathed in roses. Mostly, my work has been really dark, because that is how I've been feeling. But right now I dig down deep into my memory to a time when I was happy. I begin to sketch my mother and I at Coney Island. After I've gotten a good start on it, I flip to another page and start drawing the scene I see in front of me. I spend the rest of the evening there, actually being happy. Maybe this place won't be too bad.

* * *

******A/N: I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing. I wanted to update ASAP because it contains some more important information. PLEASE review:) Ask any questions you may have! **


	4. Chapter 3

****I do not own anything!

**Chapter 3:**

Four's POV

Tori walks back in about an hour later. Most of the people who were here are gone by now. All that is left is Zeke, Shauna, Uriah, Marlene, Will, Christina, Lynn, and myself. We probably would be gone too, but we are pretty close with Tori. And we normally just hang out here anyway. During the school year, we'll come here to do homework. It works itself out, really. We all have a place to get help in any subject we need, and we get to hang out at the same time.

"Hey, Tori. Where's your goddaughter? I thought you said you were going to pick her up." Zeke says.

"I did, she just ran to the back to change into some fresher clothes. Don't be surprised if you don't see her, though."

"Why not? We are such approachable people, and I would love to strike up a conversation with her." Pipes in Christina, "I remember her coming to visit you before, and she must remember me. I mean who wouldn't?"

"Well, don't push her. I would love for her to make some friends, but she's really shy and tends to keep to herself. If I let her, she'll just stay in my office, drawing all night."

"We should convince her to come to the party tomorrow night. She can meet a bunch of people from school and get the whole introduction thing over with." Uriah suggest.

"Oh, I already know her answer. The day I see her go to a party is the day the earth stops moving. She hates parties." Tori says sternly. I can't help but wonder what makes this girl so distant from everyone. I remember a little blonde haired girl visiting Tori over the years. I never met her, but I do remember her a little. I wonder what makes her so bottled up, she didn't seem like that when she was younger. I mean, I have no desire to go to this party either. I know there will be a lot of girls trying to get me to notice them, but I really should be there for the team. Being a starter and captain of the team, not to mention president of the class, I need to be there.

"You want one too, Four?" Zeke nudges me.

"What?" I ask and they laugh.

"A root beer float, you want one?"

"No thanks." I respond as Tori starts to make the floats. Everyone starts talking, but I don't listen because she walks out from the back. No one else seems to notice her, but I do. She has golden blonde hair hanging in waves over her face. Her shoulders are slumped over and she's looking down. She weaves her way to the corner and sits down in one of the booths. She grabs out a sketch pad. I try to look away, but I can't. She looks up at us and I see her haunting blue eyes for the first time. I turn away, but I catch myself looking back at her again and again.

The conversation continues without me. They talk about everything from football to the new school year. I just sit back and listen and watch until everyone decides it's time to leave. I glance over at her and she is still writing in that book, not losing concentration.

* * *

Tris' POV

As soon as Tori and I get back to the house, I immediately crash down on my bed and fall asleep. I wake the next morning bright and early and start to unpack my things. It doesn't take long because I had shipped most of my stuff here. Not to mention I don't have much stuff to begin with. A bunch of stuff I used to have showed my chest scar or was really big from when I got pregnant. I put on some black sweat pants and a black t-shirt. I grab a piece of scratch paper and write Tori a note. "Going to the gym, I'll be back at 8:00. -Tris" She knows about my work out habits, and it shouldn't surprise her that I will be there.

I jog about five minutes to the rec center that is just down the road. I make my way the gym, finding it empty. It doesn't surprise me that no one else is here considering it is almost 7:00 in the morning during the summer. I start off on the treadmill, pushing myself to go further than I did the last time. After about a half hour of running, I move to jump roping and weights. I need to get faster and stronger than any other person. I finish off in front of the punching bag.

Punch. Kick. Punch. I made myself a promise that I would never let anyone ever overpower me again. I can't help the fact that I am short, but over the past few weeks I have gained some muscle and am a lot faster. Kick. Kick. Punch. I work harder and harder, no one will ever take advantage of me. Punch. No one. Jab. Kick. I can feel my muscles aching as I push myself more and more. Then my phone rings and brings me back.

I look around and there are a few more people here. I walk over to my bag and pick up my phone. "Hello."

"I knew this would happen. It's 8:30, I am outside in my car. Come on out, school starts in a few days and you are far from being ready. We have to get you school supplies, not to mentions some housewarming stuff for your room. Just clean up and come outside."

Ugh, at least she didn't say new clothes. I know I need them but I hate shopping, because shopping requires trying stuff on and that is not fun. All I see are my scars and marks. I grab my stuff and I look at my hands. Even though I taped them up, I can see the bruises beginning to form. I lost track of the time as I was punching and kicking, but it's worth it, right?

* * *

**A/N: I'm trying to take things a little slow, because she has been through so much. And, yes, there will be some Fourtris, but we must be patient! It will be little things, I really like how things will work out.**

**Please, please, PLEASE review. I am open to any comments and/or ideas!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

Tris' POV

I wake up before my alarm goes off. Normally I would be at the gym at this time, but Tori made me stay home, just this once.

She walks into my room, glad that I actually stayed home this morning. "Good morning! Today is your first day, don't you want a nice clean, fresh start!" She rips off my blankets just like my mom did on mornings like this. "Come on, I am going to go start breakfast, and by the time it's done, you better be ready."

I shrug out of bed and walk to the bathroom. I took a shower last night, so I won't have to worry about that. I am not one of those people who shower in the morning. Most people say it wakes them up, but it does the opposite to me. Since I used a blow dryer last night, my hair looks pretty good; all I have to do is spray some detangular in it and brush it out. I brush my teeth and walk back to my room.

I put on some black leggings that cut off at my ankle. I throw on a light blue shirt/dress that has a high neck line, and I put a jean jacket over it. I step into black flats and walk over to my dresser. I put on my mothers ring and tuck it under my shirt; I secure my anklet on and hide it under my pant leg. I don't need anyone to see them; the only one who needs to know about them is me. I would prefer to stay secluded away from everyone else. I dab on some mascara, just like my mom always would.

I walk downstairs and am hit with the amazing smell of waffles. Tori has her IPod in blasting Shania Twain's Greatest Hits. It isn't my first choice of music. Or my second. But she was one of my mom's favorite singers, and listening to her always puts me in a good mood. And by the look of it, it does the same to Tori.

I quickly eat all my food, and I really do eat all of it. I could walk to school, it is right next to the rec center, but Tori wanted to drive me. She drops me off and I head straight to the office to grab my schedule. Tori knows pretty much everyone in town, so it doesn't surprise me that the secretary recognizes me. She already talked to the principal about, well, she told her a cut a dry story of what happened to me. I look down at what I have.

1. French III 2. Physics 3. Gym 4. Government 5. Music 6. Pre-Calculus 7. English

No honors or AP, just a normal, regular schedule. I could have taken harder classes, but I don't want to stand out. I want to blend in with the crowd, go unnoticed. I wanted to take AP Art, but it is only offered to seniors. But there are no art classes offered this semester because they are remodeling that side of the school. I had to take a fine art so I settled on music.

The bell rings and I make my way to my locker and my first class. When I walk in, I see Christina, the girl who works for Tori at 21U. I figure I can avoid her and sit in the back, but she sees me and waves me over. She grabs my schedule immediately and scans it over to see if we have corresponding classes.

"This class, Physics, Music, and Gym. Not too bad, but I think some of the others might have these classes. And we are all pretty good friends with Tori, so don't try to avoid us because we're looking out for you, for her."

"Great, so I'm being babysat?" I mumble.

"No," she snaps, "We played when we were little, and I like you. Even if you've changed a little," _A little?_ I want to ask. "everyone deserves a friend, and hey, that's going to be me."

"Thanks, but-"

"Bonjour, comment t'allez-vous?" our teacher interrupts. The rest of my classes go by pretty quickly, and then it's lunch time. I grab my brown paper bag out of my locker and make my way to the cafeteria. Since Christina's locker is just a few down from mine, we walk together. I am thankful for that, I have someone to sit with. I wouldn't have minded sitting alone, but maybe it will be a nice change.

I try not to notice all the people staring, but it's hard. I guess when there is a new student, people want to see what's up. I just wish they'd stop staring; all I can do is anticipate someone to throw something at me or scream a horrible name at me.

Christina must notice my slower pace, and I must have a horrid look on my face. Damn it! I can't go one day without it all haunting me. She grabs my arm and brings me to a table with some of the people from the other day at 21U.

"Hey guys, this is Tris. Tris this is the gang. That's Will, Lynn, Marlene, Uriah, Lauren, Shauna, Zeke, and Four."

"So this is the famous Tris." says Uriah.

"I don't know about that much..."

"Don't be too shy, you're the talk of the school right now. But don't worry, they'll find something else to indulge in." Marlene comments, "And it's not bad. Everyone loves Tori, and you are as pretty as people are saying."

I blush. Me pretty? No, I am too damaged to ever be pretty. They would think twice about that if they knew the truth. "I wouldn't say pretty, and why would people talk about me when the first game is coming up on Friday."

People seem to drop the topic, because they start talking about football. These people seem nice enough, but I don't want to make friends. I zone out and get my IPod out. I put one headphone in one ear and grab my sketch pad, the one Tori got me for my 'New Start'. I look out the window and see some skateboarders doing flips and tricks, and I start to draw that. It calms me, and before I know it, lunch is over and it's time for 5th period.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you all are enjoying her first day. The rest of the day will be coming really soon. I will probably slow down the postings after that. (But probably not) I have been traveling a lot lately and have been in a writing frenzy! In fact, I've been bad and written ahead of myself. I was hit with an amazing idea, and I have to wait a few chapters before I can share it with you:(... but not TOO many, I promise:)**

**And I want to thank you all for the positive feedback; I really appreciate them! It warms my heart knowing that you guys like my story. I've read some modern day ones that seem so cliche, I wanted one that is really deep and real. (But any story has some cliche moments.) I have a pretty good idea of where this story is going, but I would LOVE to hear what you all would like to see. **


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: I couldn't help myself... ANOTHER update. I know, I can hear you all complaining:P Here is the rest of the first day, and a little something extra!**

I do not own anything!

**Chapter 5:**

Tris' POV

I make my way to music, almost everyone from the lunch table has music, too. Zeke and Uriah hold each other in head locks as they drag each other down the hall with Four trailing behind them. Christina and Marlene are behind them and ahead of me, talking about clothes or shoes or jewelry. Shauna comes up behind me and bumps my elbow.

"Hey, we are heading to one of the best class this place has to offer, and you look like you're walking to your execution." This class is so popular, and I'm in here for a technicality.

"Don't mind me, nothing against music, but I'd rather be in art." I tell her.

She nods, "Well, you're in here for the semester, might as well try to enjoy it." And with that, we walk into the classroom. It has a high ceiling with pieces of fabric at top. Every wall except for one is covered with mirrors. There are bright posters all over the non-mirror wall.

"Okay class," our teacher, Ms. Reyes says as the bell rings, "take a seat." There aren't any desks, but three rows of long tables along one side. This leaves a huge space where there are numerous different instruments. I find myself sitting on the end with Christina to my right.

"Welcome to Music, we have a lot planned to do this year. I want to start by letting you know about the classroom rules, tell you all a little about myself, and introduce your monthly project." She continues with her introductions as I doodle in my notebook. I begin to pay attention again when she announces the project.

"Now, about that project. Each one of you will be required to do some kind of performance once a month. Your names will be put into a drawing and whoever gets chosen will perform; and you will all perform. You can do anything from sining a solo to a group. You can just play an instrument, or you can form some kind of band. Just make sure you do something before the end of the month. I will give you the rest of class today to sort out details, but you won't get class time like this again. Now get working."

As the class erupts in talking and forming groups, I make my way to the boxes of music. I know it was a long time ago, but my mom and I would mess around on the piano when I was younger. I am sure if I find something easy enough, I can just do that. I dig around and I find a few doable pieces.

It's been a pretty uneventful week, which I am thankful for. Everyday is the same, go through the motions in each class. I've built a lunch routine; I walk with Christina, acknowledging her with whatever she is talking about, and sit down with the same people. I haven't said more than 200 words to them, but I'm not really one to make friends. Or be social. Why get close to anyone when there's the chance of getting hurt? I spend most of the time drawing and listening to my music.

I usually wait in the open space/courtyard after school drawing. When I get home it is homework, eat, draw. Tori hasn't been pushing me much to do anything, but she did say she wanted me to start working at 21U next week. Fun.

* * *

Friday rolls around and all everyone can talk about is the football game tonight. It is the first game of the regular season, and people here are really into going to games. I sit in English, the last period of the day, and no one can sit still.

Our teacher gives up on trying to teach, "All right class, I am going to introduce a project for the quarter. Each one of you took a survey on the first day of what kind of student you are. Well, I have graded them and divided you up into five different groups. Each group will get assigned a book to read; the book will depend on the group you're in. For the end of the quarter. But you must complete an analysis of the book; because it is the beginning of the year, you can work in groups, with a partner, or by yourself. Whatever you prefer. Now, I've posted the different groups on the wall and the book you will be assigned."

Everyone makes a bee line to the five separate papers on the wall. There is a white paper, a grey paper, a blue paper, a red paper, and a black paper. I find my name on the black paper with the word DAUNTLESS written big on top. The book I have to read is _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ by Mark Twain. I don't bother looking at the other names on the list; I won't be working with anyone else. I will do this project just like I do everything else. Alone.

I make my way to the teacher's desk to get my assigned book, but I am stopped a few times by some guys who want to work with me. I don't pay attention long enough to even hear their names, I just nod and politely tell them I'd prefer to be alone. I don't know why they'd want to partner with me, anyway. I guess I'm sort of smart, but I'm sure there are tons of other people in the group that they'd actually know to work with.

I grab my book from my teacher and make my way to my desk. I've already read this book last year in New York, but I still feel the need to skim it. I get a few pages in when I can't concentrate. I look over and there sits Four, with a couple of other girls standing around him. By the looks of things, they are trying to partner, or group up with him. They all look ridiculous; this is school, high school. He looks obviously uninterested, but they push on. They even try to bring up tonight's game with him. Why would he care? I guess he would since he goes to this school, or maybe he's on the team.

After a few minutes of their banter, I can't take it. Normally I would walk away or ignore them, but I don't back down from others anymore. And I can tell Four looks miserable, probably because he just wants to get his work done. He seems like and independent person, well I mean I don't really here him talk at lunch. But I don't talk either. Then one of them bumps into my desk and I'm done.

"Hey, some of us are trying to get our work done here. And didn't you think that some people just want to work alone? Obviously he is one of those people." I say, and I am so surprised I actually said it. I haven't said anything like that in years, but right when I begin to regret saying it, Four clears his throat.

"Yeah, with football and training, it's best that I work alone on this one. Now can you all GO AWAY." he says in such a stern voice it even scares me.

The girls get little sad faces and give me evil glares as they go back to their seats. I am about to dive back into the book when Four taps my arm.

"Thanks, for what you just did. I don't know if I could have gotten rid of them without your help."

"It was nothing really, they were acting ridiculous anyway. And you look like someone who just wants to get their work done. Let me guess, coach makes you stay after longer than anyone else to watch tapes. And half of them are irrelevant. And on top of daily practices, you train on your own." I spit out, it is like how Caleb was, I guess he still is that way at college. I cringe to myself for bringing it up, but it is such a large piece of my life, it is almost second nature.

"How did you know that?" he asks with a look of confusion and wonder in his eyes. His eyes. I am getting a real look at them now, and I am lost, but come right back. However not wholly.

"It isn't that hard to guess. I just assumed you were on the team and you have little bags under your eyes. Not to mention the fact that you don't want to work with a pretty girl, well, you must not have much time on your hands."

"Those girls don't interest me at all."

"Well that's nice to know; I would consider my idea of you drastically."

He thinks for a second before continuing, "How could you know so much. We've been eating lunch at the same table all week, and you haven't even looked at me let alone talked to me."

"Any decent person with half a brain could see that. Or maybe I don't just look at what's at the surface. I know more than anyone else that there is more to a person than what is on the surface." I say, "And I know someone who goes through all this football craziness. But if you asked me if I think it's worth it, then I would say-"

And I am cut off by the bell ringing. I got through my first week, well it's not over quite yet, but it is a good effort. I wave Four goodbye and dash out. I grab my stuff to leave and make the 10 minute walk back home. I plop down on the couch and begin to sketch the school mascot, perfecting every little detail.

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**A/N: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I've started the next chapter and I am really excited about the next one, too. (FourTris!) Also, because I'm nice, I have a sneak peak of the next chapter!**

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SNEAK PEEK: I ponder his question for a second. I promised myself I wouldn't talk about myself and not open up at all. I am about to shrug the question off until I look into his eyes, and I feel safe... but wait, I'm never safe. I'm always going to be haunted, even if the threat is hundreds of miles away; the nightmares are always holding on with a tight grip. He must see me zone out, because he takes a step closer and puts a hand on my arm; I can't help but like the closeness. I feel like I really can trust him with a little piece of who I am. And if I'm bland enough, it won't count. Besides, it seems like such a simple question. "My mom, she liked to draw and I just picked it up from her. I've been drawing pretty much nonstop since I was eleven."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

Tris POV

"Tris, I'll be right back. I have to go to one of the bars to fix something for tonight after the game." Tori yells as she walks out the door leaving me alone. Tori said I didn't have to go to the game tonight, but I know she won't let me stay unsocial for very long so I take the opportunity to stay home while I still can. Besides, I have been to a million football games, I don't need to see another. When there is another one next week.

I go back to my 'school' sketch book and continue on a drawing of the mascot. These past few days, I've been drawing all the things around me. Kids eating at lunch, players practicing their different sports, students studying in the library, anything and everything that brings a new inspiration. I like it, and I'll admit it, my drawings don't look too bad. A knock on the door brings me back to reality.

When I answer it, Four is on the other side. "Hello?" I ask. Why is he here? The game is in a few hours and he should be at school getting ready. I know the drill for game days, and he doesn't have much time.

"Is, uh... Tori home?" he asks with hesitation.

"You just missed her, she went to one of her places. She should be back in like 15 minutes, if you really need to see her."

"It's okay, I'll just see her at the game tonight." he hesitates, "Are you going?"

"No, I am not a big fan of crowds, or sports."

He looks at me surprised. "What do you have against sports, considering you knew what you did in English today. And I've seen you in the gym almost every morning."

"Can't a girl work out?"

"It's not that, you just seem on a mission in there. The way you hit that punching bag... and you can run on the treadmill for forever. It's like you're training; you should really consider trying out for something."

"You've been paying attention?" I ask a little scared.

"Well, I'm used to being the only one at the gym at 6:30 in the morning. So when someone is actually there besides me, and works out just as hard as I do, I notice."

"I just want to get faster and stronger... I want to be able to take care of myself. I don't really have any desire to play a sport."

"What's wrong with playing a sport?"

"I don't have anything against sports, I just don't want to be a jock." I hesitate, that's not a good reason. "I feel like playing a certain sport defines you into one thing. And I feel like there is more to someone than just one side." That sounds confusing. "I just, I don't know. I'd rather be drawing than playing on a team, anyway. And I don't like big crowds. Especially the ones at football games."

"It's all a part of the high school experience, don't you want that? We're only here for so long."

"Yeah, but it feels like a lifetime." I say, "Some of us are just trying to get through high school. And getting through with all the weight is a little hard, I might add."

"Okay," he ponders but does not press, which I appreciate, "but can't you come to show some school spirit?"

"I have my own ways of showing school spirit, and it is better than going to games painted head to toe, screaming at the top of my lungs."

"Oh yeah, and what is this amazing thing you do?"

"I can't really tell you about it, I have to show you. Stay right here, I'll be right back." I quickly run and grab my sketch book with all my school drawings in them. I come back and hand them to him. His eyes widen as he flips through the pages.

"So this is what you've been doing during lunch and after school. These are really good, I mean really really good. Where did you learn to draw like this?"

I ponder his question for a second. I promised myself I wouldn't talk about myself and not open up at all. I am about to shrug the question off until I look into his eyes, and I feel safe... but wait, I'm never safe. I'm always going to be haunted, even if the threat is hundreds of miles away; the nightmares are always holding on with a tight grip. He must see me zone out, because he takes a step closer and puts a hand on my arm; I can't help but like the closeness. I feel like I really can trust him with a little piece of who I am. And if I'm bland enough, it won't count. Besides, it seems like such a simple question. "My mom, she liked to draw and I just picked it up from her. I've been drawing pretty much nonstop since I was eleven."

"You know they are about to announce a contest to choose someone to paint a mural in the cafeteria. You should apply, I'm sure you would win."

"I don't know, my drawing isn't that good."

"Not good?" he cuts me off, "it's amazing. You know what, I'll make you a deal. I am student president and am supposed to be on the board to chose the drawing. We are supposed to have a contest, but I can bring your work to the others and I'm sure we'll just chose yours."

Wow. I really want to do this. It could be really fun and take up a lot of time. I do love drawing and painting a moral would really help with applying for art school.

"Okay," I say, giving in, "you said this is a deal, what's the catch?"

"Well, I was going to say, I get you the art gig. And you come to every football game for the rest of the year."

"Oh.. umm," I stutter, "How about we just start with tonight. And if you win I'll come to the next, and the same thing will apply to the next week. It all stops when you lose."

"So you'll be coming to every game, right"

"Cocky much?" I laugh. I laugh? I look in the mirror to my left, and I'm smiling. How did he do this? It's been a mere 5 minute conversation.

"Okay, you come to the game tonight. If, and when, we win, you have to come to the next game. And that goes for every week of the season. The game we lose, the deal is off and you are a free woman."

"You make it sound restricting. But deal." We shake hands, and I can't help but feel how warm and strong his it is. He leans forward and says, "I'll be looking for you." When we release, he dashes away. "Got to go," he yells over his shoulder, "got a game to win!"

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**A/N: A deal? How will this pan out? What will happen at the game? (Cue dramatic music) I enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you all enjoy writing it. Remember, I love reviews and I love to hear what you all hope to happen. Maybe you will see your idea come to life in some way shape or form.**

**Also, my softball team leaves for nationals tomorrow (YEAH!) but I do not know if I will have wifi there. I most likely will, but in case I don't have it, do not worry. I am bringing my computer on the 5-6 hour car ride... I should get a lot of writing done:)**

**Alright everyone, I have a gift for you all... Four's POV, in the next chapter. (P.S. It's a little longer, too.) I have ANOTHER sneak peek for the next chapter, too. I really, really like writing this one, and I am sooooo excited to share it with you all soon. So, here's the sneak peek, and let me know if you guys like them. Should I keep doing them?... Again, PLEASE REVIEW! PLEEEEEASE:)**

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SNEAK PEEK: But I can see the fear that she tries to hide. I know it because I live with a fear too. No one knows, and I have avoided the beatings for a while now. However, the season is beginning, and I know he will find a reason to push me down. I can never be good enough for him, and I can never find the strength to defend myself. I want to be strong enough, but it's so hard to find the fire in me to fight for something more important.


	8. Chapter 7

I do not own anything!

**Chapter 7:**

Four's POV

After getting drilled by the coaches, spending some quality time in the trainer's room, and all the other stuff to prepare for the game, I find myself in the locker room getting my uniform on. I really did want to talk to Tori, but now that I think about it I really just wanted to talk to Tris. She seems so real, and I really wanted to keep talking to her in English. I forgot about everything else that I've been stressing over, and it was a nice break. But for some reason she just ran out as soon as the bell rang.

But I did it, and she's coming to the game to boot. Normally, we get a chance to talk to everyone after the game, so hopefully she stays that long. I don't know what's up, but something tells me she isn't one to socialize. She tries to hide it, but I can tell there is something that haunts her; it's all in her eyes. Those beautiful eyes that, I think, can see right through my exterior. How she could know so much without me saying a word, she's so perceptive.

But I can see the fear that she tries to hide. I know it because I live with a fear too. No one knows, and I have avoided the beatings for a while now. However, the season is beginning, and I know he will find a reason to push me down. I can never be good enough for him, and I can never find the strength to defend myself. I want to be strong enough, but it's so hard to find the fire in me to fight for something more important.

My father can always find a way to turn me into a punching bag. Most of it has to do with him nit-picking every little mistake that I do on the field. That's why I train as hard as I do; I love the game, but I can't handle my father. When I'm playing, I am away from him, I can forget about it all and concentrate on something bigger than just me. My team, my school. I want it that way, being able to turn something about me, into something about the bigger picture. Besides, training and playing has given me something to do, and given me some of my good friends.

The whole team is in the locker room and Zeke, my co-captain, is giving the pre-game pump up speech. The team is all fired up and we make our way to the field. Football is a big thing at our school. The stands are packed to the brim with fans wanting to see the first home game of the year. As we begin our different warm ups on the the field, I scan the crowd for Tris. I don't think that she would back out of the deal, but I don't think she will be in the student section either.

The student section is crazy, and decked out in all black and a little red. Our school colors are red, white, and black, but our 'bombsquad', which is the nickname of our student fans, always wears black; every home game is a 'blackout'. We all have special shirts and everything, but you still see the red and white here and there.

Like I thought, I don't see Tris among the other students. I scan the rest of the crowd and see her sitting next to Tori. I should have looked there first; Tori always sits in the same spot every game. Front row, middle of the bleachers, right at the 50 yard line. And there are a set of stairs right in front of her to get up there.

Tris usually keeps her up, but now it falls in waves from the bun she had in earlier today. From what I can tell, she is wearing skinny jeans and a black t-shirt. I like it, and like she said, no body paint. I would rather have it this way; she's different, and I don't want her to be the typical girl that goes to our school. A bunch of girls come to games in just short shorts and sports bras; they paint their entire bodies. I am all in favor of school spirit, but it seems desperate. We're here for a football game, so quit dressing like a whore.

Tris, though... she has a simple beauty, and I know other guys can see it too. The way eyes follow her wherever she goes, and the crazy part is, she doesn't even see it. Actually, it is probably more that she refuses to see it. I've heard some of the football team talking about her. A few times this week, she stayed after school in the courtyard and just watched everyone and drew. I saw the drawings earlier. When she was watching our practice, perfecting every line and scribble, a lot of the guys couldn't concentrate. I've seen a few guys try to talk to her, but she is so oblivious to the fact that they like her, she unknowingly turns them down.

The game is about to start and I go into the zone. I love it; entering my own world and becoming totally devoted to one thing. Normally I am not nervous at all, but I can't help it. I look over to where Tris is sitting and it calms me. It's her; I feel like I have to try extra hard to impress her, because it looks like she isn't easily impressed. With other girls I have to push away, but she is so independent. I want to get to know her, but it probably won't be easy. She seems worth it, though.

The game starts and we play so in sync, and all the practice and training we've been doing is paying off. We have a minor slip up here and there, but overall, not too bad for the first game. We win with an ending score of 25-19. We rush to the corner of the field near the entrance. There is a tradition that we do after every win, the other students and the fans line the fence on the edge of the field. The team runs along giving high fives and we rush to a 10 foot tower with a bell the size of my head at top. We climb to the top and ring it.

The easy part of the night is over with, now for the hard. What should freak me out is a bunch of big guys trying to tackle me at quarterback, that I'm not afraid of. The thing I don't look forward to is after the game when I am bombarded with fans, mostly girls. The locker room is on the complete other side, so getting there will take a while. I begin my way through the crowd.

After making it about half way, I notice the stands are almost all cleared out. Except for a little blonde. I want to go see her, but I can't make my way over there without passing the cheerleading team, and that is a disaster on its own. I begin to bulk up the courage to go over there; I feel there is more courage needed to talk to her than getting through the others.

Before I can take another step, Zeke grabs me by the shoulders and says, "Thought you needed saving." Then he shouts louder, "Hey everyone, meet up at Tori's! We'll be right there."

With that, the crowd quickly thins. Zeke and I walk back to the locker room and in ten minutes, we're making our way to the car. There are only a few people still staggering around. One of whom is Tris, still sitting in the same spot she's been all night. I tell Zeke to go on without me, it isn't a far walk there anyway.

"Hey, what are you still doing here?" I ask as I ascend the stairs up to the bleachers.

"Tori had to get the place ready for a bunch of teenagers, and she didn't have time to drop me off at home. She was supposed to be here a few minutes ago, but she's being held up at 21U." she says. "I'm just waiting for her; we're supposed to do something."

"Oh yeah? Well, I can keep you company while you wait."

"I can take care of myself, you know. You can go to the party now, no need to waste your night here."

"I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself," I say, "but you got me. I have no desire to go there."

"Really?" she says giving me a confused look. "I thought you wanted to be bathed in glory for your easy win."

"I'm not really into that kind of stuff," I tell her, "and, hey! What was so easy about that game?"

"For one thing, their running back wasn't strong enough to go gain any yards. Missing that part of the game really hurt them and that's why almost all their scoring was field goals. All you had to do was control the ball longer than them and work the long ball for touchdowns." she pauses, "But it didn't help that you guys missed almost every extra point."

"One of those we tried to go for two." I say, defensive/jokingly. "And how could we improve on that, oh wise one."

I see a faint smile break her lips, but it dies down the moment it shows. "Well, Will's kicks were on point, it's just that every time there was a hand or arm blocking them. Try mixing up the line of blockers, mix some of the guys who usually on the defensive end with guys normally on offense. From that combination, you should be solid."

It is a good idea, and I am mentally smacking myself for not thinking of it myself. It really amazes me that she can surprise me every time I talk to her. I am about to say something when her phone rings.

"Hey Tori." she answers. "Okay, I understand. No, it's okay; don't worry. I guess I'll meet you at home, but I am going to do it. Alright, see you later." She hangs up her phone with a sad look.

"What's up?"

"One of the workers got sick and had to go home and the place is packed, so she can't leave. I'm just going to meet her at the house."

"I can take you there. Only, uh, if you want me too."

"Thanks, but I'm not planning on going home."

"Where are you going then?"

"Let's just say there is a little post-game tradition that I do after football games." She hesitates, "Would you like to come along. You know, since you said you didn't want to go to 21U."

I am surprised at the invitation, and by the look she has, she probably surprised herself, too. I can't turn down an opportunity like this. I would rather do something with her than go to 21U.

"I'd like that and it sounds fun; where are we going?" I ask as I stand up.

"Well, we need to find the nearest McDonalds."

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**A/N: So I want to know if you guys like Four's POV, and do you want to see more of it? I really liked showing another view of the story and giving more depth to different characters and places. Let me know what you think. (P.S. That means you all should review!)**

**Also, I tried to post earlier, but these past few nights at nationals were crazy and late. My team lost in the final four, but we kicked ass and had a good time. **


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

Four's POV

The walk to McDonalds is 10 minutes, max. We continue to talk about the game, and she really does know what she is talking about. Eventually, I ask, "How do you know so much about football?"

She hesitates and slows her pace. I can tell she's thinking, hard. There must be a story, but she may not be ready to tell it. I don't want her to be uncomfortable, or regret bringing me. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to." I tell her.

"It's fine, umm, my brother, he's a big sports guy. Him and my dad both have state rings. Let's just say it was a the only thing talked about." She pauses and cringes. She's been speaking through gritted teeth. "I don't really talk about them."

"Fair enough. So what is this little tradition? And how did it start?"

"Aren't you full of questions, you know, curiosity killed the cat."

I laugh, because I am never like this. I usually don't care, I found out a long time ago to keep things short and sweet and move on. Zeke is the one of the only persons who have stuck around a while, and one that I have a good friendship with. I've developed a few somewhat close friendships, well close enough. Most people try to use me, so I don't get too attached to anyone. But I _am_ randomly going to a McDonalds at 10:30 at night. "Kill me for wanting to know where I was going. How do I know you aren't leading me to a trap?" I joke.

She looks down and smiles as her nose scrounges. It is such a tiny gesture I almost miss it... but I don't. It's so quirky, I love it. "When I was really little, I was taken to so many games, they got a little boring after a while. So my mom promised me one day we would go out for ice cream sundaes afterwards." She smile, and it is big and genuine. I love her smile, and I cherish the moment because she isn't one to smile a lot. It is nice to see her momentarily happy; it makes me feel a little warm inside. It is different from the coldness I tend to feel.

She continues, "So, we went, but we had to be somewhere really quick; that's where the McDonalds comes from. We both settled on simple vanilla cones. It formed into a tradition, now. After every game I go to, I go to the nearest McDonalds and get a simple vanilla ice cream cone. A lot of things change over the years, especially people, so it's nice to keep something the same."

Right when she finishes, we are at the door. We walk in and order two vanilla cones, and when we get them, we go outside where there are benches. It's nice to have a night that is so relaxing and chill. I can't remember the last time I've felt this calm.

"So," I start, "have you put any thought about the mural?"

"Umm, considering I found out about it a few hours ago, I am going to say no. But I'm sure I will come up with something cool."

"That's understandable, and I agree, you will do something amazing."

"I didn't say amazing." She says quietly.

"I know, I did." I say matter-of-factly and she looks me dead in the eye for only a second, then she hides away as a small blush creeps up on her face. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a big gush of wind randomly blows by, and it sends the napkins on her lap flying. She runs to grab them, and as she does, a long chain flies out from under her shirt.

"Sorry about that, I don't believe in littering and-"

"What's that?" I ask, pointing to her necklace. She looks down and nearly drops her ice cream trying to tuck it back under her shirt. She looks upset, and I see her eyes begin to water.

"I'm sorry, are you okay? Tris?" She brings a hand to her face, shielding herself away. "Tris, it's just me here, what's going on? I'm sorry if you didn't want me to see that. Please talk to me." I kind of beg the last part.

She takes a deep breathe to collect herself. "Sorry," she mutters, "umm... I'm not usually like this. I tend to keep to myself. Uh," she pulls her necklace and grasps the ring that hangs from the end. "This was my mom's. She died when I was younger... I don't like talking about it."

I can see the pain in her eyes, and I want to erase it as soon as I can. So I do something that I have never done. I take off the leather bracelet on my wrist and flip it over. On it says, '_Find your strength.'_ On both sides is a tied ribbon. "I don't tell others this, but my mom died of breast cancer when I was pretty young. One of her lasts gifts to me was this bracelet."

"Oh my gosh." is all she says, and there is a long pause before she speaks up again. "How do you deal with it?"

"Honestly, some days are better than others. But one day I woke up and I was willing to move on, for her. She wouldn't have wanted me to live my life with regrets... I still struggle with that last part."

She stays silent, and I can't quite read what she's thinking. "You know, this may sound stupid, but talking helps. But it has to be the right people. There is a group of people who've lost their parent's that meets once a month. You don't have to say anything, but it's nice to see people who know the pain you go through. It's better than talking to someone who doesn't know what it's like."

"Really? Do you go often?"

"I try to, as much as I want to not think about it, going really does help lift a little weight off."

"I'll take your word on that one, but it does sound intriguing."

"I can let you know when meetings happen, if you want."

"That'd be nice, thanks." She's seem to really calmed down.

"Why don't we make our way back." I suggest considering we both finished our desserts a while ago. We stand and make our way back. I live just down the road from Tori, so I decide to walk her home. We talk about casual things, and there are moments of comfortable silence. Before I know it, we are in front of her house. She waves goodbye, and disappears into her house in a blink of an eye, leaving me wonderstruck.

I can't believe I did that, but I don't regret it. I really do like being with her, even though today has been the first time we've ever spoken. It felt so natural and right. I know I'll be pushing too hard to ask to hang out this weekend, she has some issues that will take some time to get through. I am willing, though, to help her with that. We can help each other, I'm sure. And as I walk into my house, for the first time, I want Monday morning to be here.

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**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this! FourTris! I think I have one more Four's POV up my sleeve, then I go back to Tris. Or I may do a Tris, then Four again... It is all up in the air! The next update might take some time because I am tweeking my story line. I had an original plan of what I was going to do, but now I changing some of it. But it will be worth it!**

**I love hearing your thoughts! Especially because I am tweeking, let me know what you want to see. **


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: There is a big announcement at the bottom, so make sure you guys see it!**

I do not own anything!

**Chapter 9:**

Tris' POV

_I am running, far far away. I am running as fast as my feet can take me. I am running to no place in particular, but I know where I am running from. I can't take it; I am going to lose my mind, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I try to hide and bury it away, but it finds me every time. _

_My feet carry me to the water, pure Atlantic salt water where so many times my mother and I used to run. Some mornings, we would come to the beach and just run along the shore. It was amazing, letting the rhythmic ocean waves take beat to our running feet and our changing breaths. No other sounds existed. From chattering animals to magical street performers; they were not there. _

_Now, nothing leaves me. A million sounds cram into my mind and I am constantly surrounded; I feel like I am suffocating. I am trapped, with no where to go and I can not breath. No matter how much I try, how much I scream for air, I am never relieved. I feel like the world is crashing in on me and I want to scream. I want to cry for space, for help, for love. But I do not deserve it. I am surrounded and it's all caving in, but I am alone. Horribly, and terribly alone. Even though nothing leaves me, I feel so empty. _

_I look out and I wish I could run on the water and take myself away from this horrible life. How can every good memory I own exists in this city, my New York, yet all I want to do is leave. I haven't seen my father in a month and Caleb's been gone at states for football. No one cares, and no one knows. I can't tell them, what would they think? How can I tell my brother something he won't wan to hear. But I have to believe that he will believe me. He has to. But do I believe me? Did it really happen? _

_No. I can't think like that; it did happen. Shit. It did happen. How could I let this happen, and if anyone finds out I won't be able to handle everyone else. Their looks, their stares, their mocks, everything, it is bad enough I am small, but now I truly am weak. I want to believe I am strong and brave, sadly though, I can't help but feel like I live forever in fear. I feel sick._

_No, I feel really sick, like I am going to... Ah, puke. These past few weeks lately, I have been getting sick, and I can not figure out just why. I am constantly hungry, but I do not feel like eating. Sometimes I feel like eating the strangest things, but I would rather not eat anything at all. What's wrong with me, I just want to scream and cry. I want my mom, I want my family; not this broken shit I have now. I don't know what to do, and it terrifies me so much. _

_I am on the pier now, standing above the crashing waves. It is so free, the water. It can move and flow where it pleases. It can be calm and tranquil, but it can be monstrous and unpredictable. It can not be controlled, and part of me loves it. And part of me fears it. _

_I don't know what comes of me, but I bend and jump into the water. I love the drop, those moments where I am weightless and free. Then descending down, bringing a huge rush as my stomach churns. My moments are short lived, and I break the barrier into the flowing waters. At first, I am one with the water; bending as it turns and breathing air as it breaks. But suddenly I find myself fighting it for control, and I am losing. I fight for air, for the surface. I am not strong enough, but I have to be; I have to believe that. _

_I am beginning to lose hope; sometimes succeeding is to give into what you fear. But am I willing to do that; I don't want to. What would happen if I just disappeared? Left this miserable world for a new. Mom, I love you, but I just can't give in, not yet. Not without a fight._

_Then, like an angel coming to save me. A pair of arms wrap around me and carries me away..._

I wake up, gasping for air. I look around and find myself in a my room. The plain walls with night stricken windows make the room look boring and sad, but the different pictures around the room bring it life. There are not that many, but that makes the few pictures that are there even more special. They are of my family, before it broke into a million unfixable pieces. My favorite is one of my mother and I at a Sunday brunch in June; everything is perfect in that 8X6 frame. My eyes linger on my mirror, with its different, varying in size pictures along the perimeter. One of which is Rose, just a few hours old. I get taken back to my dream.

Part of me is relieved because it was just a dream, but it wasn't just that. It was real, a memory. My nightmares sometimes are things my imagination comes up with to torture myself. Mostly though, they are my memories. They haunt me every night and day.

As I was slowly losing myself more in more in that water, a lifeguard came to save me. He grabbed me out of the water and he saved me. Did I want him to save me, though? As we crawled back to shore, the world around me became more and more in focus. And I knew him, the lifeguard. It was Robert. He and Caleb were pretty close friends, especially because Caleb liked Susan, Robert's sister. But when Caleb got more popular with his rising sports and lost the interest in school he used to have, his friendships changed and the cliches he was in shuffled.

Robert and Susan were my friends too, but we did not see them much after their parent's divorce. Their mom stayed in New York, but their dad moved across the country. They split time between their parents and I never saw them much, especially when their mom moved across town. And it was usually the four of us, but with Caleb gone, it kind of fell apart. I was and still am one to stay to myself, so it was not meant to be.

But that day, he grabbed me out of the water. He was shocked to see me, but managed to stay polite and nice. We talked for only a moment before I found a way to walk away. After _it_ happened, I found no reason to be around people. It just brought myself down, and I've never really figured out why. I ran and ran till my feet couldn't carry me any more, but it was more that I felt this horrible pain which was what made me stop. As much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't. I went to the store and got it, just to prove myself wrong, and made my way home.

That day, that night actually, was when that little plastic stick changed my life. I waited till I knew no one would be home. No housekeeper, nor unexpected family coming home. I locked myself in the bathroom and waited as my fate was decided from a little pink marking. I don't know how to describe how I felt, I just remember going numb and lifeless. A million things went through my mind, but it went straight out as fast as they came in. But a baby? A child? I couldn't think about it. A life was growing inside me; a life that was a mistake. No, not a mistake, a horrible act of violence and brute viscousness.

But I couldn't abort, no. My mother was pro life and I agree with her one hundred percent. Even if I didn't want to during that time, I had to stay strong. How could I go against something both my mother and I agreed on. What kind of person would I be? I couldn't grow any more weak than I already was. I couldn't break my morals when things got hard. I couldn't break a promise my mother and I agreed on. I just couldn't, not to her.

Right there, in that small bathroom, I made a decision that would bring me so much trouble and so much relief. I would be ridiculed everyday, pregnant or not. But seeing her that first time, it made it worth it, I guess. She didn't have his snake eyes, she had my fathers warm eyes; the eyes I haven't seen in years. Her...

_BEEP BEEP BEEP _

My alarm goes off. Normally I get up early in the morning for workouts, but I find that going in the evening is more probable. Less people are there on a Saturday night. But Tori is having me work at 21U starting next week and I need to train this weekend so I am ready to get started Monday. I get out of bed and slowly get ready for a day of work. I don't think it is too bad of an idea, but not for the same reasons as Tori. I can use the work as a means of distraction and an excuse for 'going out'. Tori is constantly telling me to get out, but this will be enough hopefully.

I walk into 21U, and there are not very many people here. Good. Christina is behind the counter preparing a smoothie for a customer. I timidly make my way to the back, half wanting to turn around and go back home. But Christina meets my eyes and it's too late.

"Hey! I wasn't expecting you for another 45 minutes."

"Yeah, I guess I am an early bird. Kind of hard to kick the habit. You don't mind that I am here early, I guess that if we start earlier, I can get out of here earlier."

"You don't want to do that, later is when more people come and then it is so much fun."

"I uh, have something to do later, so-"

"WAIT, you are doing something later? Where? With who? Come on, tell me."

"It's umm, a date with the gym. I don't go out like others."

"Well, you should come to some with me. I would be more than happy to take you under my wing. I think you would have a lot of fun, and you look like you need some fun."

"I'm perfectly content with the way I am."

"Content. That doesn't sound too convincing or happy."

"Happy is a..."

"Thing that everyone should feel, and if you aren't happy, then trying to have fun is good enough." She says, "There is a party next weekend, at least consider coming with me."

I ponder, maybe if I agree to _consider_ it, she'll drop it. "Okay, I'll think about it."

"Great! Now, about this smoothie." She finishes it up and gives it to the girl waiting. She takes me to the back and begins to explain things to me, and I already know some of it from coming over the years. I do learn about a few new things, and Christina does make it somewhat enjoyable. I like her, and she is nice to me. She seems like someone to be a friend, she has told me enough times.

I don't want a pity party, and I feel like she might treat me that way. But then again, she doesn't do that, or at least she seems to not do that. The way she looks me dead in the eyes, she sees me as a friend. And it looks like we will be spending a lot of time together here, so maybe I am willing to make it worth more.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you like this little Tris POV I've thrown in. I originally didn't plan for this chapter, but with some help from a certain person (you know who you are) I squeezed this little thing in spur of the moment. I wanted something that was more her friendship with Christina, but like I said it was spur of the moment so it may seemed rushed. Hey! It's better than nothing, right? Sooo, I hope you all enjoyed it and get ready to grab those tissues. Because I went into a "dream-writing-frenzy" and wrote another flashback/dream that is a little bit of a tear jerker. **

**Also, BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! This story has been nominated for a Divergent Award by Sunni96! I am soooooooo excited, especially since this is my FIRST fanfiction. So please please PLEASE go and vote! **


	11. Chapter 10

I do not own anything!

**Chapter 10:**

Four's POV

Mondays are usually the easier day of practice, and it ends relatively early today. So some of the guys decide to hit up 21U on the way home. It's Zeke, Uriah, Will, and I making our way to Tori's. Most students who don't have after school activities go there after school to work on homework; it has the advantages of having different study tables to do work, but there are food and drinks as well. If I didn't work out as much as I do, I'd spend a lot more time here, but I do come in a decent amount of time.

We walk in and there are still a good amount of people here. Since practice ended early, the normal crowd of people that comes after school is still here. I ask the guys what they want and they text me their orders and hand me some money. It works out, really. They give me their orders and money so it is all in one place, and I make the one trip; it's clean, straight to the point, easy, and painless.

I make my way to the counter to order, and there stands a little blonde drawing next to the cash register. She has on the jean capris from today, the normal worker's shirt, but she wears an under armour long sleeve that comes up her neck underneath. I try to look and see what she is doing, but she manages to conceal her work. I get her attention, and her eyes bolt out of their drawing trance.

"Hey Tris," I say, "I didn't know you were working here."

"Yeah, well, Tori wants me to engage more, and forcing me into a place where most of school is her grand idea. I was training Saturday and Sunday with Christina, so I've got a pretty good handle on what I'm doing."

Now I wish I'd dropped in this weekend. I really do like talking to her, it's like taking a break from the real world. And she has this thing about her that makes me want to be around her, to protect her in a way that can make us both strong. But I'm glad she is working here; it is a place I know she's at and she'll have to make some small talk. Even if it is just that, something small is better than nothing. Even though I have a few classes with her and eat lunch with her, she manages to cocoon herself from almost everyone but Christina. And even with Christina she stays to herself.

"Well I've got a few orders for the guys and myself." And I read off the list of orders in my phone. She puts the food orders in the computer for the kitchen in the back and begins with the smoothies that Uriah and Will want. I would normally go back to the table and wait for it to be ready, but I stay and watch her.

I look over the counter and see her sketch book, or should I say sketch books. I've only seen one with her, and it holds drawings of school stuff. The other one must have everything else; I am really interested to see what could be in there. She probably holds a large part of herself in those pages. I look up to see she is finishing up the drink orders and brings a tray to the counter and stands next to the window to the kitchen waiting for the food.

"I didn't know you had two books." I say, hoping it will spark something.

"Oh that?" she says as she walks towards it, "Yeah, I don't bring it to school. It is a little bit more personal; even Tori hasn't seen those pictures." And as she says this, she slides both books under the counter. Damn it! I pushed too hard and she's backing away; I just have to be cool. I see her as being a really good friend and it just has to build slow. And maybe it will build to something bigger. I really do like her, and the best part is she isn't even trying.

"So, have you put any thought or gotten started on the mural?"

"Umm, yes. I was thinking doing a collage of a bunch of different things from our school or incorporating the mascot in some way. But with work and all these projects for school I am really pressed and busy. I like it that way, though, being busy."

"I know all about that, and I agree, I kind of like being busy. It keeps my mind focused on one thing." I tell her as the food comes out. She lays it on a tray and gives it to me. I don't want to leave, but I have no reason to stay, and the guys are shouting over to me to bring the food and drinks over.

We hang out, joke around, and get a little homework done. I engage a little, but I am too busy building up my courage. I have made my decision, I will ask her. I need to start off simple, and I think it will help the both of us. I wave the guys ahead in front of me and make my way to Tris at the cash register.

"Hey, would you be willing to work together on the english project? You know, since we are both busy and all, it could work better that way."

She takes a second to think it through. I have no idea what she will say, I just hope she is willing to do it. It will be a small step, but a step is a step.

"I don't know, I mean we are both pretty busy, but we have different schedules. You're training schedule seems pretty intense. Maybe another time; I just think it will be better to be alone on this one. And probably the next time." She kind of mumbles the last part.

I can't help but feel disappointed, but who was I kidding? She's made it very clear she is an independent person. But that's what I like about her. "Okay, I understand. Next time, though, we can work something out."

I walk out with my half done homework, not really in the mood to finish it.

* * *

I walk into the gym like every other morning. I really do like early morning workouts because there is not that many people here, and those who are here are here to get some work done. Normally, people here this early don't bother each other either, which is nice.

I get the most work done here at this time than any other. I can also get a lot of steam blown off here. My dad is in the government, and because it is an election year, he hasn't been home often. I know when it is all over, though, he will come for me. I don't know what is wrong with me; I am a grown man, I am strong and capable of defending myself. But when I see that look and his deadly eyes, I shut down and I can't help but feel weak.

I do my usual stuff; I run some, lift a lot of weights, jump rope a little, and work a few minutes on the rowing machine. I am walking to the locker room when I glance over to the punching bags. They are all still at rest, not moving an inch. Except one. It swings like it will fall off, and in front of it is a little powerful blonde. Tris.

I walk over to her wondering when she managed to slip in without me noticing. I guess that is just her, trying to stay hidden and out of people's minds. But that doesn't work. She tries to hide in the corner away from others, but I always seem to find her every time. At the moment, she is so focused I bet she doesn't notice me walking over. Her eyes say everything from pure hatred to brisk fear.

I place my hand on her bag, thinking it will be the least painful and surprising way to get her attention. She hesitates a moment glancing up at me, but continues beating the shit out of the bag.

"Here," I say, "let me steady your bag. It will help you more." She stops for a moment before nodding and continuing. She's good, but she could be better.

"You know, you'd get more powerful jabs using your elbows and knees. You could get a lot more damage done and defend yourself more."

She doesn't say anything, just applies the suggestion perfectly. I kind of wished I'd not given the advice because, while the punching bag is getting the worse of it, I am getting pushed around. An alarm on her phone goes off and she stops.

With her still, I get a real look at her. Her hair is in a braid down her back. She wears black capris leggings and a regular t-shirt. She walks over to her bag unwrapping the tape from her hands.

"Thanks for the tip," She says, "and for holding the bag."

"I don't mind. Really. It's nice to see someone in here as determined as I am."

"Well, if I were you, I'd spend time on your quickness."

"What are you talking about?"

"Umm, with football, you know. You are deadly accurate, but your mind works faster than your hands and feet. Your not that bad at it but the others are worse than you. Most players are too focused on the brutal strength of the game, but not much beats quickness."

"Okay, I see what you're saying."

"Do more jump rope, that helps you stay on the balls of your feet, and doing it for a while builds stamina. And you are smart out there, but sometimes the guys don't see the field the way you do."

"Thanks for the tip." And I mean it. I love how we can bounce different ideas off each other like this. "Why don't I walk you to school; meet back here in 20 minutes?"

"Sure, see you in a few."

And she makes her way to the women's locker room with her bag. I go to the men's and am in and out really fast. I do make a note to try to look and smell somewhat nice. My jeans and AE shirt seem to work. I want to ask her a few more things in the few minute walk. I walk out and shortly after Tris walks out in jean bermudas and a black top.

"Ready?" And with that we make our way to school. At first it is quiet, but I can talk to her right now without her finding a way to busy herself with something else.

"How long have you been boxing like that?"

"Oh, since a couple of months ago. I feel a little better knowing I can defend myself. And I've pretty much always been an active person."

"You know, I know a little bit about that stuff myself. My uncle Max is ex-military and taught me how to shoot a gun and throw a knife and stuff like that. If you are interested, I would be willing to teach you."

Sometime during that last part she tensed up, and I grab her arm to try and bring her back. She snaps back and says, "Thanks, but..." she hesitates and really thinks about her answer, "Actually, I'd really like that. But you have football and training, how will there be time?"

"Well, if you are willing to come to football practice here and there and help some of the guys, coach won't mind if we stay in the trainers room in the basement after practice."

"Alright. Would tomorrow work?" She says a little unsurely, I'll have to talk to Tori later.

"Yes. And since we will both be on crazy schedules, it is probably best to work on the English project together. I know you said earlier you wanted to work alone, but I really need someone to work with if I want to get it done. And you're going to be running a similar schedule." I know this is too much to ask and I feel stupid and embarrassed for asking.

"I guess you have a point, and if we work together, it won't be as much work, I guess." She replies and I can't help but letting a huge smile spread across my face. I usually keep my emotions in check, especially happiness because I don't see it much. But as meaningless as that statement might sound, _"I guess you have a point, and if we work together, it won't be as much work, I guess"_, it means the world to me. It is a step, a tiny step, but a step.

We are now entering the school and I even walk her to her first class. She keeps her head down like every other day, but I know that come tomorrow I get to spend some time with her. I can't help but feel a little victory. I just have to remind myself to not press any more for a while. What happened today was me pressing my luck, and I just have to back off a little now. But it is worth it.

* * *

**A/N: Okay everyone, I hoped you liked this! I have a pretty significant cliche moment planned to come in the next chapter, but it is at the beginning and it will be pretty short and sweet. I do want to spend some time explaining a few things, though. So if you are 100% sure you know this story and you have no questions or doubts of anything, then you really don't need to read this, or if you don't really care at all and you haven't even glanced at this part. (Like people actually read A/N anyway) But try to stay with me if you do:)**

**One thing that I would like to clear up is Tris' mental state. This girl has obviously been through a lot. A lot. She has trust issues and a million other issues, but this did happen over TWO years ago. I am not saying that she should be perfectly fine and sunshine and roses, but she has moved _somewhat_ forward. One of the bigger contributions to this is the camp she went to. I didn't go into much depth of this camp, and I will eventually, but it helped her learn to cope with her feelings (why do you think she draws all the time and wants to do the mural). And I personally had a traumatic event happen to me about two years ago (A much different traumatic event from Tris) but it did leave me broken. After support and different things to help me move on, I slowly but surely got a lot better. So, she does have different flashbacks, and she is hesitant to grow close to people, but it's Tris. She is a strong person and_ just like in the books_, she finds a way to live with her troubles without completely losing herself. (Because this is a fanfiction based on the book)**

**Another thing, I have based a lot of the stuff that happens at this school, on my own school. Tris' schedule is very similar to my own, and a lot of stuff that happens at this school in the story has kind of in one way or another (with some bend and twist) has happened at my own school. Now, these things are NOT dead on, this is a fanFICTION after all, but they are similar. This is one of the ways that I have tried to make the story as true and real as I can. There are some stories that have things that, in my opinion, would never happen in real life. So, if you like this true-life adaption, _you are welcome._ (Quoting Jenna Marbles)**

**Last thing, this is based off _Divergent_, so I try to keep the things that happen in that book, stay somewhat consistent in my story. So, yes, Four and Tris are just naturally in mushy gushy love;)... But seriously, I love that couple and they are slowly going to get together (Spoiler Alert:P) **

**If any of you have any specific questions that you want explained more in depth, I am more than happy to respond! I love PM, and that is one of the best ways to do it. Some of you have already done this and I really do enjoy it. Do not hesitate! And because I am just a people pleaser, I am putting up polls for you all to vote for what you want to happen! So go to my profile and pick what you want to happen. The polls will alternate every once in a while, so go and decide what you'll read. **

**AND school starts in a few days and I don't know how often I will be able to update. I promise I will try my hardest, though. Also, sorry that this A/N has been SO long! They will not be this long ever again (at least I will try really hard to not make them this long again). Be brave, everyone!**


	12. Chapter 11

I do not own anything!

**Chapter 11:**

Tris' POV

I walk into music, and the class is buzzing with some excitement. Normally, students aren't that excited about learning after lunch, especially being in food comas, but on the board is a big sign that says "PERFORMANCES TODAY". That is our teacher's way of saying that some of us better be prepared to get our monthly project done. Anyone can go today, and any amount of people. It could range from three to six. I really hope I don't go today; it's not that I'm not prepared. I am. I just hope I can hold it off as long as I can.

The bell rings and Ms. Reyes stands at the front of the class with a big hat in her hands. "Class, every group, duet, soloist, etc. is written on a piece of paper in this hat. I am going to pick a few people by luck of the draw, and first to perform will be..." and she reaches her hand down and pulls out a single slip, "Tris."

Damn it. I really would rather not go. At all. Unfortunately, I have no choice. I open my folder and get my stuff out as Ms. Reyes asks, "What will you be doing for us today?"

"Umm, I have this song; I'm going to play it on the piano." I reach out my sheet music and show her.

"It's a song, as in lyrics. Won't you be singing?"

"No, I would rather not."

"The song is meant to be sung; there are words there, so you must follow the arranger's piece. We like a little divergence in our thinking; you know, slight modifications due to the way you interpret the piece. But you can' t just not sing the words. You know the lyrics, right?"

I nod my head in confirmation. I haven't sung a note in years, but I do participate in a good amount of humming. It couldn't be that bad, right? Besides everyone is still in their food coma from lunch, what are the odds that people will remember every detail of today anyway. I just pray that the people who will go after me are more memorable and I will just float away out of people's memories.

I make my way up to the front of the class. I have my sheet music in my hands and carefully lay them out in front of me on the piano, just like mom taught me. I start to glide my fingers along the keys and sweet sounds slowly bring me back to when I was little. Remembering how to play, well it was like riding a bike; nothing's really changed.

The simple melody hangs in the air as I breathe, knowing lyrics are coming. I love the piano part of this song, that's why I chose it. But if I'm being honest, the words are pretty on point. I don't want to reveal anything about myself through this song, but the lyrics do hit home for me. Music is art, and art is how you express yourself. When I throw myself into an art project, I go head on. If I'm expressing myself, I might as well put all of me into it. Even if I don't know what 'me' really is. I take one low, deep breathe and begin.

_All around me are familiar faces _

_Worn out places, worn out faces _

_Bright and early for the daily races_

_Going nowhere, going nowhere_

_Their tears are filling up their glasses_

_No expression, no expression_

_Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow_

_No tomorrow, no tomorrow_

_And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad_

_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had _

_I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take_

_When people run is circles it's a very, very Mad World_

_Children wait until the day they feel good _

_Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday_

_And I feel the way that every child should_

_Sit and listen, sit and listen_

_Went to school and I was very nervous_

_No one knew me, no one knew me_

_Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson_

_Look right through me, look right through me_

_And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad_

_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had_

_I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take_

_When people run in circles it's a very, very Mad World_

I graze my fingers along the keys and add a little improv strokes. I finish oh so delicately. I glance up for the first time and the class is silent and staring; they all have aww in their faces. I want to hide away, I really do not like being the center of attention, good or bad. I wish they would just look away. Then they start clapping and hollering. I give a little half smile and nod my head in thanks and walk back to my seat.

When I am seated, Ms. Reyes begins to pick the next act to perform. It is someone playing the saxophone, and I try to sit and listen but Christina tries to talk.

"Where did you learn to play like that?" She whispers to me.

"Umm, it's something I used to do a while back. I figured I could give it a whirl since this is music class." I whisper back.

"Give it a whirl? Tris, that was really good, the piano part you did. I mean, don't get me wrong, but compared to the enchanting piano stuff you did, the singing was..."

"I know. I tried to tell Ms. Reyes that it would be best not to do the lyrics, but she insisted. Next time I chose something with no words."

"Ladies." Ms. Reyes says. "Can it wait till after class?"

"Sorry." We both mutter. The rest of class goes by fast and uneventful, to my dismay. When the bell rings and people begin to file out, some people come up to me about the song, but I manage to excuse myself to my locker. I grab my books for math and replace them with my music stuff. I can feel someone coming before I see them; call it another sense I've developed over the past few years.

"You don't need me to say you did really well in there." Four says as he walks up to me.

"Umm, thanks. I guess it is an art thing."

"Listen," he says as he gently grabs my arm, "you were good; you are good. Don't let anyone downgrade you, and don't downgrade yourself."

This kind of takes me back a little, why would he be telling me this. I feel like ever since I did that song I've been vulnerable, almost. But with him here, next to me, holding onto me, I don't feel as lost; it's like he is helping me in a way I just can't help myself. "Okay, thank you. I, uh, have to get to class.."

"Right, I wanted to catch you before you can slip away." He says, "I was thinking of working on the project tonight and doing the knife and gun stuff tomorrow. That okay?"

"That's fine. How about my house? There is a really good office to work in." The office is more of a study/art studio that Tori set up a while ago.

"Awesome, I have practice after school, but I will be there afterwards."

"Cool. See you later then." And we both go our separate ways.

* * *

In front of me is a new beginning, so bare and so lifeless; a new canvas to be manipulated. I am standing in the cafeteria with a big white wall standing in front of me. It is up to me to make it special, it takes someone special to make something special. That is what they tried to engrave into me at camp. But this painting isn't about me, it is about the school and the students. That's why I've decided on a certain kind of artwork. I flip to my most recent drawing and hold it up to the wall, trying to see how it will work.

Our mascot is the Firehawk, so that is what the painting will be. But because there are so many people going to this school, they are all going to be a part of it. I am going to paint the outline of the bird and do its head and body, but its feathers are what will make it really special. I plan to make a bunch of feathers by drawing a bunch of lines. Then, every student will form into a group to make their own feather. The groups will come up and dab their thumbs into red paint and make a feather using their thumbprints.

School ended a half hour ago, so the cafeteria is empty. I wanted to see and visualize what I want to do. The wall is so big, I am going to need a ladder to get to the top of it all. I officially start the project tomorrow and I have a pass to get out of class during certain times to work on it. But I will probably just work on it after school. I am actually really excited to work on this, I have never really done anything this big and it kind of makes me even more excited.

I look down and check my watch and I realize that I need to leave to go meet Four. Why did I agree to do this? Maybe I am just tired of being alone, but alone is normal and I am used to it. I think. But he was right, I am starting to get really busy lately; there is no way I could do the english project on my own without someone else's help.

Who would've thought? Me, busy all of a sudden, but I have my reasons. I work out a lot for the training; to get stronger and faster. I am doing the mural for the experience, and it will look nice on my application. If I ever want to escape like I want to, I will need more than just my notebook doodles. I am going to learn that stuff with Four because I need more than just one way to protect and defend myself. And I am working at Tori's. Well, that one is low on the list of 'things I want to do', but I still do it.

I find myself walking through the front door in no time, and I make way to the study. It is a decent sized room that is kind of split down the middle. On one side, the side with the windows, is a nice two-slotted desk with drawers and lots of room; in the corner is a printer and scanner. One side of the long desk is for Tori and her work stuff. The other side is for me to work on my school stuff. All over the wall and the desk are different pictures, athlete bobble-heads, posters, and christmas lights.

On the other side of the room, the side of the room that the sunlight hits during the evening, is where I have a few art things out. I have an easle set up in the corner with a painting of my mom and I from a while back. Our smiles are so pure and genuine, it is one of my favorite things I have done. Along the wall are different half drawn things that I pin up thinking one day I will pull them down and finish them. I think of it as an 'Almost-There' pieces that I will work on, then move onto something different, then go back to the old one. I try to do this, but it mostly consists of my putting up half done or three-fourths or one-third done drawings. But I really do love it.

The best part of all of it are the windows. There are two of them and they are almost as tall as the floor to the ceiling, and they let in the purest, most beautiful evening light. But that isn't the best part. The roof on top of the house is flat, and there is a nice path I have made over the past few years from one of the windows to the roof. I love it up there and it is all mine. Tori doesn't like going up there, and she gives me my space that I need. So it is my own place that no one thinks about, except me.

I hear the doorbell ring, and I run down to get it. Four stands on the other side, his hair glistens and he is wearing a fresh t-shirt and basketball shorts. Good, I was hoping he would clean up after practice. When Caleb would come home from practice, he would stink the place up. So it is nice to know Four is at least considerate, and him having his hands filled with school stuff makes me feel a little better about him over. Part of me naturally feared it would not be just that, but he seems pretty focused.

"Hey, hope I am not too late. I wanted to get here so we could have as much time to work, but I wanted to get cleaned up after practice." He says.

"It's fine, I got home not too long ago, myself. I was messing around upstairs anyway." I tell him, "We'll be working upstairs, if you want to throw your stuff up there. I am going to grab a water from the fridge, you want one?"

"Yes, thanks. I am going to be upstairs."

"Cool, it's the first door on your right." I say as I head to the kitchen. I grab some waters and a pour some goldfish into a bowl and make my way to the study. When I get there, Four is looking at the painting of my mom and I that I forgot to put away. I put the stuff on my desk and walk over to the easle.

"Is this your mom?" He asks.

"Yeah. This is just something I am doing on the side; it kind of relaxes me, like she is still here. I really like being able to keep a piece of her with me." As I say this he looks down at my hidden chain that peeks into the open behind my neck.

"It's really... happy." He says, "I know that doesn't sound like much, _happy_, but it's perfect."

"Thanks... So, this project-"

"Right, I had a pretty good idea of what to do for the project. We're supposed to do a literary analysis, so let's go over the book and a few themes, and then we can develop a thesis. From there, it won't be too hard if we have a goal in mind."

"Sounds like a plan." And we start with going over important parts of each chapter, touching bases on the different themes that begin to take form. On the one wall that is not occupied with windows, the door, or my art, is a dry erase board. We divide it into different sections and mark them with the themes we've been seeing. As the time goes on, more and more is written down on the different topics, and we are beginning to get a good idea of what we want to write about what our thesis will be. I can't tell how long it's been, but the sun is beginning to set and we are almost done going over the book.

"So the end," I begin, "I think it is kind of ridiculous in a little bit of a funny way."

"Why would you say that, I mean isn't this book supposed to be humorous?"

"Well, with the end, they were acting like fools, and it was all because of Tom. Tom knew that Jim was free, but he still made this crazy, elaborate, dangerous, unneeded plan to free Jim. The whole spoon thing, it just blows my mind how ridiculous it all is. Tom wanted to be brave and all, but he was just being a fool and a coward." I say. At the end of the book, Huck and Jim find Tom and Tom always wants to be adventurous and be some kind of pirate or something like that. He develops this big plan to help free Jim, when Tom knew he was a free man the entire time. "And the books humor is dark, didn't you see that?"

"I mean, well... What were you thinking?"

"There is humor, but it is dark. The funny stuff, like Huck dressing like a girl, adds a childhood touch, because Huck is just a kid in this story. The 'humor' adds emphasis on the major problems going on, like the family feud or the differencing of social classes. By making a 'joke' of it, it is kind of criticizing it. And Huck sometimes subtly does just that."

"Okay, I see what you mean. But weren't Huck and Tom really similar at the beginning?"

"You're right," I say as a pick up a dry erase marker for the board, "I guess that adds emphasis to the whole 'character change' column we have here."

"Well, wouldn't the contrast of Realism and Romanticism writing styles be representative in the characters? Tom being Romanticism and Huck being Realism."

"That's a good point. And the change in Huck throughout the story is emphasized by Tom's character. When Huck runs away, we don't see Tom till the end, so when we do see Tom again, it is evident of how Huck has changed. For the better, too."

"I guess, with him, running away was the best thing for him to do. I think he ends up with better honor and morals than he did at the beginning."

I know all about running away, you could say, and I don't know how well it actually is. I am trying, I think. Four notices me zoning out, and says, "You okay? What are you thinking?"

"I guess, the whole running away thing, I can't say I don't agree or I disapprove, but I can't help but feel he did the right thing. He believed it was right, he acted on his own and he did something that was totally spontaneous and pretty brave in a sense."

"I think it was pretty brave, especially because he started it alone."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's easy to be brave in a group with people around you doing the same thing and going along with you, but being alone is totally different. When you are alone, it is just you; how do you know you will be just as brave and honorable without others there watching you, being with you? I guess doing something that may seem wrong, but it is right at the same time... I don't know, it is interesting and something to look more at."

"I agree, and I think we defiantly have something to write about for the paper from all this." As I say this, I motion the dry erase board that is completely covered with everything Huckleberry Finn. It is then that I notice that the sun has completely set, and it is dark outside. Tori walks in just then and says, "Hey Four, I didn't know you were still here."

"Yeah, I guess we lost track of time working on homework."

"Well it is a school night and you probably have other homework, why don't you head home. I don't want to get either of us in trouble for you getting home late."

When Tori says this, he loses some color to his face and slowly begins to grab his stuff.

"I'll keep all this up." I say pointing to the board.

"Good, we will defiantly need to meet up again, but I think that we got a good amount done." He says and he has all his stuff packed up. I walk with him to the door and find myself walking down the driveway with him.

"I really do appreciate you doing this with me." He tells me. He isn't touching me, but his eyes drive through mine. His eyes, which are clear even in the dark of night. Just doing this, makes me feel close, and I don't mind it because there is something that makes me feel fine with him. I don't think about my past, I think about the now.

"It's no big deal, I guess. We're getting work done, which is good." I shrug.

"Seriously," he says as he takes a step closer, "thank you. And I wanted to ask you, if you want to do it, some of us are going paint-balling this weekend, would you like to come?" He is so close, I can feel his body warmth in the cooling night.

"Umm, I don't know. I may be working, and I am not sure I know what paint-balling is."

"It is a lot of fun. We divide into teams and it's basically war and sometimes we throw in a flag and play capture the flag, just for a twist. At least consider it, if it makes you feel better, Christina will be there."

"... I'll think about it."

A smile creeps along his face and he adds, "And don't forget the football deal. We won last week, so I will be looking for you this week, too."

"Thanks for the reminder, and you should know I didn't forget. When I make a promise I keep it."

"Awesome, I guess I will see you tomorrow." He waves goodbye and slowly walks away into the mysterious night. This moment, right now, I have a feeling to do a million different things, one being to run up and just be near him. He makes me feel all weird inside, like I'm bursting with something that I haven't felt in a while. It's small, and after not having something that feel right in a long time, I am a little hesitant to go full force. I just hope it won't get taken away.

* * *

**A/N: I know, a song... But I really like it and if you are looking for a song to correlate with it, don't worry; I would not leave you all hanging like that. If you need inspiration in all your wonderful minds, the song is **_Mad World _**and listen to the Adam Lambert version or the second half of the Glee Project's version. (Specifically Marisa's part towards the end)**

**This one was a long one, and I hope I didn't lose too many people when they were discussing the book. If you haven't read it, then I apologize if you were like, "Huh?!". And if you have read it, I hope I was accurate with some of the stuff I have written down. I tried to proof read for errors, so hopefully there aren't any:)**

**Anyway, I hope you all liked it and please review... they motivate me to update faster, especially with school starting and all my AP classes taking my time. I really do like writing this story and it is such a nice break, hopefully with you all, too. Also, please go to my profile and vote for the polls I have up! **

**Be brave, everyone!**


	13. Chapter 12

I do not own anything, just my ideas!

**Chapter 12:**

Four's POV

I walk into the lunch room and it is bustling with life. I grab some food and head to my usual table. Most of the time, I am one of last ones to the table because the teacher in my last class is one of the football assistant coaches; he tends to keep me after to talk. I get there and one seat in particular is empty. It wouldn't be that strange because that seat is sometimes empty when I get here, but Christina is already here and Tris isn't. I look around and I see that half the cafeteria is looking at one thing. I follow their eyes and see Tris standing on a ladder, starting the mural.

It looks like she is painting a black background to begin with. I want to go over to her and just offer some help; anything to be closer to her. I would be lying if I said that I didn't mind all the people, mostly guys, watching her paint. I can't help it. Her hair is in its usual ponytail, but she wears a smock to guard her clothes. Even with that, she is so beautiful; with some of the stares, I am not the only one who thinks so, too. I just can't get her out of mind; especially since yesterday.

Since she sang that song, I can't shake the feeling that I need to protect her. I don't know if anyone else noticed it, but the song was so sad. What if that was what she feels? _Hide my head I want to drown my sorrows. _ I can't help but feel that may be the reason why she shuts away from the world. I know she is strong, but some people may have, or they actually have, doubted her. It is hard to build up from being completely broken. She has to believe in herself before she can get better.

But that one line, _the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had_, it gets me. This can't mean what I think it does. I just can't shake it; I really need to make sure she is okay. I know what it is like to live in fear and to want every day to end before it starts. And I do not want her to live like that. No one should have to live like that. I can't just drop it and act like it is nothing, like it is only just an assignment she mustered up. I can't, because I like her too much.

I glance up and see she is trying to get down from the ladder, but she is holding a bunch of stuff in her hands and she's having trouble. Before I know it, I am by her side offering a hand. "Let me get that." I say as I point to the paint can and tray in one of her hands.

"It's okay, I've got it." She says not looking at me.

"Hey," I say more stern and she looks up slightly and I hold her eyes with my own, "you need help; let me help you."

She hands them over, giving me a nod and a 'thank you'. She eases down the ladder, now only holding some brushes and a few papers.

"If you don't mind," she says, "could you help me take some of this stuff to the storage room around the corner?"

"Not at all, lead the way." And we walk out of the cafeteria with eyes lingering on the two of us. She stops at the first door down the hall on the left with STORAGE written on it. We put the stuff away and she grabs a brown bag, which is probably her lunch, from the shelf. We walk back to the cafeteria and to our table.

"Thanks again, for helping. I figured I should eat at some point."

"I don't mind. Really, you need anything and I am there."

"Good to know, but don't hold your breathe." She says this as we get to the table; everyone is laughing and I see Zeke lose some of his drink through his nose.

"Ewww..." says Marlene, "you got milk on my sandwich."

"I'll eat it!" Uriah says as he reaches over and tries to grab her sandwich. As he pulls back, he tries to grab her muffin too, but she smacks his hand and tucks her muffin safely in her lunchbox.

"Hey, don't even try." She tells him, "In fact, I think you and Zeke are conspiring to steal my food. You can have my sandwich, but do not go near my muffins. Or you will find yourself without a girlfriend."

"Okay, okay... I'm sorry. I will now and forever guard your food from milk spilling out of my brother's nose." Uriah says as he wraps an arm around her.

"You know, because we _conspired_ together, I want half of that sandwich." Zeke pipes in.

"No way, man." Uriah responds as he shoves the sandwich in his mouth. Marlene rolls her eyes as everyone else laughs. And lunch continues this way, laughing and joking as we find new and strange ways to grow closer together.

* * *

Our school is big, really big. And we have a very supportive alumni who really like sports. Almost every sport is important to the school, but football is one of the biggest ones. The football stadium is the prime jewel of all the different facilities. Along the back of the football field is the Field House which is ground zero for all the sports. There is a state of the art Trainer's Room where athletes go for injuries and before and after practice for getting wrapped or ice or anything like that. On either side, we call them the wings. Partly because it goes along with the school mascot, but also because the girl's 'wing' is the left side and that is where the girl's locker room and they have different things over there for them. The boy's 'wing' is on the right and we have our locker room, a smaller version of the weight room from the main building, and a strategy room.

The basement is a different story. The ground level of the Field House runs along about half of the football field, and it is broken up into different sections. The basement, on the other hand, is just one floor under the ground, but it is not separated by any walls. It is one big floor that is used for a couple different things. But I just love the feeling I get in here, and I love the smell; dust, sweat, and metal. A lot of the time when the weather is bad and all the sports need to practice, there is not enough room in the gym. The basement is a nice to have as a backup. Or when you want to teach gun and knife lessons.

Tris should be here any minute now, and I have almost everything set up. Practice ended over thirty minutes ago, so the place is barren of all burly guys. Coach said it was fine to do some extra target practice afterwards without everyone else. The type of target practice, well that was left up to assumption. I have the targets that I use for throwing footballs set up on one side, and I put a little extra something on them so they won't get damaged. I have a table set up with some knives and guns. The guns don't have real bullets in them, they have plastic pellets.

I hear the door open from upstairs and footsteps as they descend the stairs. I see Tris materialize in the doorway, and I get this amazing feeling seeing her.

"Hey," I say, "I'm glad you came."

"Yeah, it took me a second to figure where I was going, but I'm here."

"I'm glad. Ready to get started?"

"As ready as I will ever be." She drops her bad on the ground next to the table and she, for some reason, distances herself from the knives. I guess we will start with guns. We both pick them up and I show her good stance and I teach her how I was taught. With the gun in both of my hands, I breath in, then breathe out, steading my heart and relaxing my body. With my next exhale, I pull the trigger and the bullet hits the center of the target and bounces right off, leaving a little dot of a mark.

She lifts her gun and mimics my moves, but her breathes don't get as relaxed. And it shows. Her bullet flies just outside the target, but it does miss. She lets out a sigh, and begins to do it again. The same thing happens, but she is stubborn enough to keep going. I walk up next to her and touch her back.

"You need to relax. You have a gun in your hands, but you are tense with it. Focus on your breathing and center on that target. Forget everything else, just that target. Don't lose yourself in it, though. Stay steady, breath in, breath out, and fire.

I let go of her and she follows these instructions perfectly. I see her eyes narrow and her body relax more. Her breaths steady and she fires. The bullet does not hit the center, but it hits just outside the first circle.

"Good, now do it again." I tell her. She nods and lifts the gun and fires again. After a couple shots, she is hitting closer and closer. With each improving shot, her eyes light up with life; life that I've known has been in her. A spark that will form into a small flame, and grow into a fire that will eventually spill out. She has a fire in her, she just needs to let it spread throughout herself.

"Okay, you ready to move on?" I ask her. She hesitates for a minute and nods slowly. We place both guns back on the table and I reach for a knife. She lingers behind and does not grab a knife; I shrug it off and walk over so I am in front of a target.

I explain the fundamentals, but I do best through leading by example. I take my stance, and take my breaths. I pull my arm back and let the knife fly as I let out the air in my lungs. It hits the target perfect, like every other time. I do it a few more times, then I step back for her. I offer the knife in my hand to her, but she shakes me off.

"Not yet. I'm... not ready yet." Is all she says. Then she starts to mimic my moves, but without the knife. She takes a perfect stance, and pulls her arm back and brings it forward like she is throwing a fake knife. She does this motion a few more times and I can't help but feel a little puzzled. Why would she be doing this? What is wrong with the knives?

After a few minutes she stops and takes a big breath. She eyes the knives with a look of... fear, almost. Then, swallowing whatever is holding her back, she slowly makes her way to the table and grabs a knife. At first when she is holding it, it is flabby and weak.

"Are you okay?" I ask her. She nods, but her eyes are closed. Her breaths are deep and long. Then, her eyes open and that fire I know they can hold is spreading over her blue orbs. She is awake, and she exerts an energy so powerful, I can't help but feel like she is bringing me to life, waking me up.

She hold the knife more steady and takes her stance. She does the motion perfectly, just like before, and her knife flies to the target and hits the inner circle. It is not dead center like mine, but it is pretty damn good for her first throw. She does not throw as many knives as she did shooting bullets, but she doesn't need it.

Eventually, we start cleaning up. I look at my watch and see that it has been about and hour and half, but it did not feel that long. I want to stay here all night, but I know that is asking for too much. Tomorrow is Friday, which means a game. It doesn't take long to pack everything up, and we are walking out of the Field House, onto the football field, in no time.

"Thanks, for helping me out. You don't know the significance of what happened down there."

"You're welcome, but what do you mean. Does it have something to do with the knives."

"Kind of... Let's just say I sort of conquered a fear, and it wouldn't have happened without you. So thank you, I mean it."

"I don't mind, I had a good time. And if it means anything, I wouldn't want to mess with you anytime soon; with your aim and boxing skills, you are more badass than you think."

"I'm glad, that's kind of what I want." And I walk her home, and for the record, the walk is not long enough. When we get to her house I remind her of the game.

"Yup, I'll be there, and be sure you do not lose, or else you will lose one whole fan. I don't think your fan section can take a hit like that." And something strange happens. We both laugh; like, really laugh. I am surprised she made a joke, and I am sure she is too. But none the less, she has opened a small part of herself, and I was the only one to see it, and that makes me feel fireworks in my stomach. She lingers a moment; then, in a blink, she in gone inside her home.

* * *

Friday's are the best, and not for the obvious reasons. Friday Football is what drives this place in the fall. And the excitement during the day carries into the evening. The team doesn't participate in tailgating, but let's just say, there is a reason people show up two hours before the game starts. And I've heard that Tori runs an awesome tailgate party in the parking lot. I can't help but wonder if Tris is in the parking lot right now, probably hidden away in a car drawing or something like that.

But right now, I have to focus on the game. Winning last week means nothing, we still have to perform tonight. I've been suggesting some of the stuff Tris and I have talked about to the others at practice, so we will see how they pan out during the game. We just have to win, mostly so I can keep her coming to the games. Part of me hopes that she will still come, even if we lose. All I know is when I think about her something inside me lights up and I am wide awake.

We prepare to take the field, and I can hear the crowd going crazy. The team is chanting and the energy is so high, I feel like my body can't stay still. We run on and if the adrenaline wasn't pumping before, it is now. And I love it. The last touch is the stadium lights. The Lights. That has to be one of my favorite things about playing night games, playing under the lights. I can't really describe why it gets me, but you know the feeling when it hits you.

As we do our field warm-ups, I look out to the stands. I see her, sitting there with Tori. My heart could literally explode out of my chest. I can't get a good look at her, but I will make sure that I see her after the game. And then before I know it, the game begins.

Nothing too special happens tonight; the team we play lost a lot of seniors last year and their replacements are sophomores and freshmen. By the time half-time roles around, we are leading by over 28 points. When we walk back onto the field for the second half, I see Christina standing next to Tris and Tori, talking. I wonder what's going on, maybe Christina is convincing her to stand with her in the student section. Maybe, hopefully, she is convincing Tris to go paint-balling with us.

The second half begins just like the first did, and the game plays out as predicted. We win easily, but it wouldn't have been as much of a slaughter, in my opinion, without using some of Tris' suggestions. We ring the bell and make our rounds through the crowd, but when I look up to where Tris was sitting, all I see are empty seats. Something inside me deflates, and I go back to the Field House.

When I walk out, I can see that the parking lot is sparkling with life; must be an after-game tailgate/party. I walk over and I see Tori working around through the crowd doing what she does best, entertaining. My heart skips a beat when I see Tris sitting in the back of a pick-up with some of the others from the lunch table in front of her playing cornhole. I pass over them and hop in the back of the truck with her.

Now that I am up close, I can get a better look at her. I am taken back a little, because she looks different. I mean, she looks the same, but there is a little something extra. She's wearing more makeup than usual; the black eyeliner snaking her eyes is hard to miss. And she is wearing a shirt that fits her body more that has the school logo on it. Her hair is down, and by the looks of it, naturally straight. It makes it look longer.

She looks up at me and her eyes spark up a little, and all I can feel is the butterflies racing in me. "You used my idea." She says.

"Actually, I used a couple, and you were right. I mean, you saw the game."

"I did, and you guys played well." She says as a small, warm smile takes form on her face, "Good news for you, your fan base didn't lose a member. Looks like I'll be coming to next weeks game."

"I'm glad, I like you seeing you in the stands, even if you aren't with the other students."

"Yeah, Christina tried to get me to stand with her, but I turned her down. She got me to wear the shirt, leave my hair down, and wear make-up. I was not going to cave in again."

"Well if it makes you feel better, I like the way you look; either way." A small blush creeps along her cheeks, but she gets herself back into check in a moment. Right then, Uriah comes over with a defeated look on his face.

"What happened man?" I ask, "Did the girls beat you again?"

"Maybe," he says, "but that's not the only reason why I'm upset."

"You've always been a sore loser, honey." Chirps Marlene.

"Mom pulled the plug on plans tomorrow." Zeke says next to him; he's sporting the same look.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Zeke says, "We have to move paint-balling back to next weekend because our mom is making us do a family thing."

"Aww, I guess it's fine to move it back to next week." I look over at Tris, who has made herself shrink from the conversation. I can tell she is already thinking of a reason to not go, but I cut her off before she can think of anything solid.

"Won't you come? It's going to be a lot of fun." I tell her.

Christina hears this and adds, "Come on Tris, neither of us works next Saturday; please come."

She sits there and thinks, then she lets out a sigh and says, "Okay. I'll be there."

All of us give a little cheer and we get another game started. I give Tris a nudge and tell her, "You're allowed to have fun, you know." And I want to say she lets that sink in, because she ends up playing a few rounds. But she migrates back to the pickup truck and grabs her sketchbook, and I know she is drawing this game of cornhole.

* * *

**A/N: I really hope you guys liked this one. I really liked writing it, but I did not completely spell check everything, so I apologize if there are any really bad spelling mistakes. And if you do not know what cornhole is, look it up. It is a really fun game that is very popular where I live. It gets played a lot at barbecues, parties, tailgates, etc. In fact, I've won a cornhole tournament... So, fun fun fun!**

**I have also began thinking and working on Homecoming! Yah! And I have a small twist that some of you won't see coming involving a certain little blonde, so stay tuned. I will tell you it won't be for a while, though. Sorry! **

**A couple of reminders... Please go and vote for the polls I have set up, they will change in a few days and I would like to hear your input, especially the song one. I am planning ahead and what I really need is a Four song. So get to it please! And if you have a song and don't see it in the poll, PM or leave a review. Also, if you are a big Hunger Games fan (who isn't?) I am doing a little HG story on the side, so you all should check it out! PLEASE review or PM! **

**Be brave, everyone!**


	14. Chapter 13

I do not own anything, just my ideas!

**Chapter 13:**

Tris' POV

_1 Week Later_

I wake up, and I know something is different, and I look around to see what it could be. The sun is rising, just like every other morning. My gym back is packed and suspended on my door, ready to go. The walls and pictures are untouched around the room, but what is it that is so different?

I look across my room at the mirror sitting on my dresser. And then I see it; it's me, I'm what's different. If the old me from a few months ago could see me now, that old me wouldn't believe it. A few months ago, I was broken. I was sleep walking through life, not living, only barely surviving. But now, I actually kind of enjoy waking up in the morning, waiting to see what will unfold each day. Before, I would count down the minutes till it was all over.

Look at last night, I went to the game and I stood with Christina. Granted, it was an away game, but the team the guys played is in the same conference, so they weren't far away. Like I promised, I was in the stands, but I was with the students. Well, the few that were there. Of course the section was not lacking, but there weren't as many as usual. Christina and I stood on the edge, and it probably doesn't count as being _in _the student section. It's close enough for me, though.

The guys won again, and they are undefeated so far this season. Who would have thought? Well, Four did. He has such a confidence in himself and his team; he really is a good leader. He proved that last night; the game was really close, until the guys went into the locker room for half time. Something happened in there, because when they came out for the second half, they had this energy that carried them ahead and to a victory.

Now, I'm going paint-balling. Paint-balling? I don't even know what it is and I am still doing it. I guess I am curious to see what will happen, but I feel this energy and excitement slowly begin to build in me, too. I haven't felt this energy in so long, the feeling is a little unfamiliar.

Like every other time my feelings don't make sense, I grab my sketch book out and begin to draw. I open up to a new page and begin translating my busy mind into curves on a page. But unlike the pages before, this one isn't so... sad, monstrous, dark. It sparks life. And I like it, I really do.

* * *

Breath in, breath out. Focus on your breaths and relax. I am low, crouched to the ground, and I hold a gun in my hands. Not a real gun, but one that holds paint instead of bullets. Painful, but survivable. Even though it's fake, I can feel the power radiating through my fingers. The power is a little overwhelming because I know what power can lead to. Destruction. I know that power can go into a downward spiral that can not be stopped. I've seen it happen right before me eyes. I hold power in my hands, and I actually like it. The weight in my arms feels uncomfortable at first, but it's only because I am not used to it. And I'm not afraid.

Someone slams up against the wall I am behind, and it's Christina.

"Ooh, isn't this awesome." She says out of breath. She's on my team, along with Four, Will and Lynn. The guys on the other team are Zeke, Shauna, Uriah, and Marlene. Zeke and Four were voted captains, not much of a surprise.

But what did surprise me some was that Four picked me first, before all the others. Maybe he's trying to be nice, make me feel better because I actually came. But maybe it's more than that. Four, though, he's smart. He has to have a strategy to win, because that is who he is. He'll look at something and find the best way to handle it.

"Hey, I was wondering where my team went." Four says as he crouches down next to us. "Lynn texted me saying she shot Uriah trying to get our flag, but it's still protected and they're down a player."

Everyone thought it was a fun idea to add a flag to the mix, like I know how to play paintball to begin with. I quickly am picking up on it, though. Christina and I are supposed to be staking out for the other team's flag, Lynn is guarding our own, and Four is leading the group through it all.

"How are you guys doing?" Four asks.

"Honestly," Christina says, "this is hard as hell. I have no clue where it is or where to look anymore."

Four runs a hand through his hair, and says, "Okay, Christina, why don't you go with Lynn and guard the flag. I'll go with Tris and try to find it."

"Alright, keep your phone on you." And she runs bak to where Lynn is with our flag. Now it is just Four and myself.

"So," he says, "any ideas as to how to find their flag?"

At first I don't say anything, just think. How would I find their flag? Christina and I have tried what feels like everything to find the other team's flag. We've tried sneaking around, getting down low, spying through small place, but none of it has worked. I'm so small, and I'm fast, that's what I've used already. But I have to think different, what else could I do. Then it hits me.

"We've got to get higher." I say.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it is dark in here, and staying low hasn't worked. We have to climb up higher to find the other team."

He gets a strained look in his eye, but he does not stagger on it. "Okay, how do you suggest we do that?"

I look around and try to find something to climb. There are several different one story shacks, but none tall enough to see on top of. Then I see it. Off over to the side is an old abandoned water tower. I can see a ladder running along the side leading up to the top of the tower.

"That's it! Over there, look." I say pointing to the water tower. Before I can get a response, I am up and making my way across the way to the tower and climbing up the rusted rungs.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks.

"You don't have to follow me; you can stay down here and watch."

"No, I'm coming up with you." And I hear him begin to climb with me. He is faster than me and in no time, he is right at my feet. We're like this for a while, climbing and quiet, but then he starts to talk.

"You having fun?" He says with short breaths.

"I guess; I mean, I've never done this before so it's a little weird, but a good weird. It's been a while since I've done something out of my comfort zone. But I will say I've never climbed a water tower before."

"I'll second that. There is a reason people don't do this on a day to day basis."

"I don't know," I say with a smirk, "it's pretty fun if you ask me. And I'll remind you that you didn't have to come up here; I can do this."

"Undoubtedly. You know maybe I wanted to be up here so I could be here with you." He says and I don't know if he is joking or being serious. I don't have much time to think about it because I am at the railing. I pull myself up so I am sitting on the edge with my feet dangling while Four glues his back to the wall, as far away from the edge as possible. His breathing is even more scattered and he has a look of fear in his eyes.

"Are you okay? Is it... the height?" I ask him.

"It's nothing; I'll be fine."

"Undoubtedly." I say, mocking him a little, "Everyone's afraid of something, you know; it only makes us human. How we deal with it, well, that is different for everyone."

"I try to ignore it, pretend my fear doesn't exist."

"I wish it always that easy." I say under my breath. "We're not high enough. This tree line is too high, I just need a few more feet."

"Are you kidding? There's no where else to go."

"Yeah there is, look. Right over there is a section of rungs going up a few feet, it's not much but it'll do." He gives me a weary look, but I reassure him. "It's okay, if you stay below me, holding on, I'll be fine."

"Okay, I'm not letting you do this on your own."

We walk over and I put my feet on the first rung and I feel his hands loosely grasping my ankles. I climb up, but I need to go to the top to see. It's not that much higher, but Four can no longer hold onto me.

"Tris?"

"I'll be fine, it's okay."

He gives a sigh, but doesn't protest. I climb a little higher and I see a light with the others around it. They're next to a big tree, and I see the neon orange flag hiding in a whole in the tree.

"I see it!" I exclaim.

"Great, now would you climb down please?"

I give a laugh. "Okay."

As I descend the steps I slip just enough to lose my balance and fall. My heart skips a beat and I feel a scream break my lips. But as soon as I am falling, I stop as a pair of arms catch me. I look into his eyes, and it's like time is frozen. It's just him holding me in his arms, the two of us and no one else.

"Umm," I say, "thanks for catching me."

"I got you, don't forget that."

"Okay. We should start climbing down and go win this game."

"Sounds good to me!" I text Christina letting her know where the other team's flag is and we begin to climb down. I notice Four's breathing gets better with every inch we descend closer to the ground. The moment we touch the ground, he grabs my hand and we run in the direction of the other team's flag.

I love the adrenaline coursing through my veins and losing my breath as we run. Four suggests a good plan, and all I process is that he will cover me as I climb the tree to the flag. We begin to slow our pace as we get closer, and eventually we are hiding low, ready to pounce. It is only Uriah guarding their flag, and Four jumps out from the shrubs first. I follow right after him and block the world as I scurry up the tree.

I am so close, and I've never felt this drive... well, ever. I reach up and I clutch the orange piece of cloth. And we win!

We win!

I jump down from the tree and run out into the open as everyone comes up around me. Christina and Lynn run up, finally arriving. The four of us cheer, and not too much longer, the others join us. Somehow, the cheering turns into a who-can-get-the-most-paint-on-the-others contest. Paintballs begin to fly and everyone's jackets get splattered with every color of the rainbow.

It's all fun, I'll admit. But it is also a little overwhelming. I sneak away from the others to get some space for a moment. It's so stuffy, especially with this huge jacket on me. I look around to make sure no one is around, and I take it off. I had a light jacket on when I got here earlier this afternoon, but I took it off in the bathroom when I replaced it with my paintball jacket. But now, all I have is a V-neck that has fallen down during the game just low enough to reveal my scar. I try to pull up my shirt, but I can't tell if it gets covered.

I kind of don't care right now because the warm sun feels so good on my bare skin. It has been so long since I've been exposed to nothing but the sun. I lay down in the grass, letting the evening sun shine on me. I just lie there, not thinking about anything else and it feels amazing.

The sun is blocked, and I am covered by a shadow. At first I think it is a cloud, but then the darkness speaks.

"Tris... What is that?" Four says.

My eyes shoot open and terror rushes through my body. My heart drops and I can not breathe. I sit up and cover myself with the jacket that is to my side. I stand and begin to run, but he catches my arm.

"Tris, what's wrong? What is that on your chest?"

"I... I... I can't. I'm sorry... Just let me go!" I try to wring my arm free, but he is holding onto me.

"No, Tris-"

"STOP! Just leave me alone. Let me go. Just let me go! I knew this was a bad idea." And the tears begin to fall.

"You can't regret coming. You-"

"No, not coming... thinking I could make friends. This was all a big mistake! Let me go, NOW!" I pull my arm again and it finally breaks free. That's when I begin to run.

I don't know where I am going, but I do not care. I trust my feet to carry me away to a safer place. I've depended on my feet many times before; running has been a specialty of mine, in more ways than one. Who was I kidding? Who would want to be friends with a freak like me? I'm marked with scars that will never go away; I can never forget what happened to me.

The worst part is, I knew this would happen. I knew if I let my walls down and let people in, bad things would happen. That's what has always happened. Everyone I have ever cared about... They've left me. My mom, my dad, my brother, my friends. I can't take it anymore, I need to escape it all.

It is now that I see where I am. Tori's bar; not 21U, but one of her adult ones. How did I get here? Am I really that weak? The minute things get too rough, I break. That's how I was in the past. But that was the past, wasn't it? Those nights when nothing felt right, when no one was home and the only thing to keep me company were my sorrows and bottles. I would enter that world, a world on the edge of reality and imaginary, and I wouldn't feel as horrible. I would feel almost okay, but just for those few moments.

I can feel myself migrating towards the liquor cabinet, but I bring myself to a stop. No, I will not do this. I have worked too hard trying to build myself into someone bigger, someone better. The thing that surprises me the most, is that I have felt happier these past few weeks than I have in a long time. I am afraid that it may be ruined now, though. This situation is bad all on its own, I can't let it get worse with losing every ounce of strength I have built up to this point.

So I make my decision; I walk away. It's what _she _would have wanted. I am brave, but I am selfless too. I am selfless because I chose to live, because with some people it isn't a choice. I can't waste it. I am brave because I chose to move on, even if the whole moving part is slow. I will try, I promise. Even if it will take time, I will grow more. I will make them proud, no matter how long it takes. No matter how many troubles it takes. It will happen, even if it takes a thousand years.

I walk home, and the rain begins to downpour, erasing the paint from my body. It's like the water is cleaning me from what happened. I haven't felt truly _clean _so long, it takes every part of me to not just lay there on the ground and soak up the warm drops. But I keep moving forward, trying to relax my mind. Unsuccessfully.

I get back to the house and run in, not exclaiming my arrival. I run straight to my room to change into dry clothes. I don't bother to look at the mess I must be in the mirror. I fall into bed and it takes everything in me to try and stay awake, too afraid of the nightmares that will consume me. But I fail to my falling eyes, and my slumbers turn on me the second I give in to them...

* * *

**A/N: DUH DUH DUHHHH! The moment a lot of you have been waiting for... and the next chapter will be very juicy and will be coming soon:) I changed the ferris wheel to a water tower for two reasons. One, there is more of a chance that there is a water tower in a paintball area than a ferris wheel. Two, I am saving the ferris wheel for a future chapter. (Oooohhhh!) Please review!**

**Be brave, everyone!**


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: FYI, this is the flashback/dream I mentioned back in like, what? Chapter 10? 9? Anyway, here it is and I hope you all like it! To tell you the truth, I wrote this over a span of two nights back at softball nationals... so I have been waiting a really long time to share it with you!**

I do not own anything, just my ideas!

**Chapter 14:**

Tris' POV

_I see stars; they're shining all around me. I can't tell if they are real or if they have come from my imagination. Slowly, they disappear one by one till I am alone. Alone. I feel so alone, but I can't pinpoint just why. Then, like hitting a huge wall, it crashes on me. The pain is impossible to avoid; my body throbs and my head hurts. I look at my hands, and I see bruises and blood. My head hurts too much to think, and I want to get up but my body won't let me. I look around and I see my naked body sprawled on the bed, with my ripped clothes on the floor. _

_I have to get up, and I manage to find the will to walk to the bathroom attached to my bedroom. I try to avoid the mirrors on my way, because I can't bring myself to face it. I want to deny anything happened, that everything I'm feeling is just one big misunderstanding, a part of my imagination. My heart drops when I enter my bathroom and there is someone standing in the full body mirror; someone I don't recognize. But she moves when I move, and her eyes hold my own. _

_The person I see in the mirror is weak, and her weaknesses led to her breaking. Her body is not human, it holds different colors on it. Instead of milky cream, I see blue, red, purple, green; it's like facing an alien. There is blood everywhere, especially my chest and crouch. I am so afraid. I want to make it all go away, I can't stand looking at it. And that 'it' is me. I rush into the shower and try to scrub it all away, every inch of that alien off me. My blubbering tears mix with the water as it streams down my disordered body. When I step out, an alien is replaced with a monster. A monster with tangled, messy hair. A monster with deep bruises of color. A monster with a single mark. _

_The blade, I see it. Even if it's not really there, I feel it's presence. It's coming at me, and I can't stop it. It hurts, so so much. I can't tell what's real, and it scares me. I can't breathe and I see his face, his eyes. They are so black and lifeless. I am not the monster, he is. I am not a monster, but I am something worse. As much as I want to deny what happened, I can't. It takes all my will to push it out of my mind, but it stays and there is nothing I can do about it. I was raped. _

_I was raped. I am weak. I am worthless... No, I'm not; but I am. How could I let this happen? I should've been strong enough, but he overpowered me. Maybe, I can convince myself it was just one horrible nightmare, but the pain all over my body fights against that. That's when the door flies open. _

_The house is empty, at least I thought it was. Or at least it is as good as empty. People are either at their homes, or they are dead through sleep around the house. But he stands there, sobered up enough and staring hungrily and angry. He strides over and pins me to the wall and holds a hand to my mouth. His horrible voice, the one that will forever haunt me, comes to my ear. _

_"You tell anyone, and I will destroy you." Peter says, "I own you, and it's my word against yours. No one will believe you. No one." He takes my body and throws me against the wall and to the floor. He gives me one last kick and leaves me broken and lifeless on the floor. _

I jolt awake screaming, and my face is melted with tears. I can't breathe; it's like someone has wrapped their hands around my throat and I can't find air for my burning lungs. I let out a huge scream to bring me to life. It comes out scratchy and it hurts my dry throat. I try again and it is more fluid, loud and fearful. No matter how hard I try, my nightmares never leave me. Some nights I can find relief; those nights have been coming slowly more and more as time has goes by.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd given up on that cold ground; if I'd refused to fight for myself.

Part of me wanted it to all end; if I had been taken away at that very moment, I would have been fine. Everything around me meant nothing, I wanted death. I wanted to be with my mother. I wanted for the pain to end. I wanted to be with Him. I never really gave it much thought before. Before then, ever since my mom had died, I'd lost faith in Him, like He betrayed me by taking the most important thing away.

But at that moment, I was only praying for mercy. I wanted the pain to leave me as soon as it came, but I wasn't that lucky. I lived, and let me say, it sucked. Swallowing what happened while the rest of the world moved forward. I was left living with the worst horror life could offer, and everything else went on, like nothing happened. My brother and his precious team went on to win the state championship. Both him and Peter are playing football at Big 10 schools. Me, I barely passed my classes, lost touch with every 'friend' I had, and when people found out about her, I dealt with the weight of bullying.

I can't take it anymore, I have to get out of this room. I feel like the walls are slowly closing in and I can't find a way to break free. I look outside and see that the sun is trying to break the barrier of the horizon. I quietly walk down the hall to the study and climb out the window. If you asked me why I liked this place so much, I probably would not be able to give a better answer than 'I don't know'. Whenever I feel like I need to feel free, I find myself climbing to the roof.

Maybe it's the breeze that I feel up there. Maybe it's the ability to see the world around me more clear. Maybe it's the height off the ground. Either way, I can think more clearly up here and it is kind of a place of my own; like my own little chasm, but it is high up instead of hidden below. I have made it my own space; if you lift the bench seat along the one wall, you can pull out pillows and blankets. I have christmas lights and wind-chimes hanging along the perimeter.

I just sit there, waiting for the world's weight to finally break me. I thought I was getting better; I mean I was trying, right? The sun is just now beginning to rise and it is turning the sky into a million different colors. I can't help but wonder if the sky hides away such beauty because it is ashamed of it. I can't really talk, though.

So I just lay there, watching the sky lose its wonderful colors and settle upon its naturally pure blue. Not one cloud is in the sky. I don't know how long I've been up here, but I don't really care. I do not want to go back down and face the reality of the world below. A few times I hear Tori call my name, but I ignore the calls. It must be getting closer to the later part of the morning, because I can feel my stomach grumble. Like I'm actually going to eat.

I hear footsteps approaching, and Tori is standing above me. The look on her face is one that I am familiar with. And it reads just like the other times; she knows. She may not know everything but she had to have heard me last night. She knows something went wrong, but she knows not to ask about what exactly happened just yet.

"You can't pretend nothing happened, and we will talk about it later." She says, "But for now, I will give you your space. I have to go run a few errands, anyway." She turns and begins to walk away, but she hesitates and stops. She turns around and walks back, but this time she bends down so we are closer.

"What ever happened... You can trust me with it, you know. This is your home, and I want you to have more. You deserve more than what you've gotten. Just, don't shut away. You don't have to be afraid anymore." I swallow what she says, but my mind is too gone to think clearly. And so it is just me again, laying on my roof, but it is short lived.

I hear footsteps approaching not much longer after they had left. I thought Tori was leaving, why is she coming back? Has time really gone by that fast? No, it has only been a few minutes. Then, to my horror, the one person I did not want to see materializes on my roof.

Four is standing there, looking at me. But the look he is giving, I'm not expecting it. I'm expecting him to give me a look of horror, or disgust. However, his eyes are soft and it takes me aback.

"Tris..." He says and I look away. I can't take it, I can't look him in the eye. Before I know it, I feel his presence next to mine.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I wanted to make sure you are all right."

"Well, you're wasting your time, I'm never 'all right'. You should just leave."

"I'm not going to do that; I'm not going to leave you."

"Can't you see I just want to be alone?" I yell at him.

"No, you don't; you don't want to be alone. I know you don't, and I know that you've been hurt." He says in a calming voice, "I can see that you put up walls to hide behind, but you can't hide forever. "

I turn to look at him with confusion running along my face and mind. All I can manage is, "You don't know anything."

"Maybe," he responds, "maybe I don't know what exactly happened to you, or how much hurt you feel. But I want to tell you, though, you don't have to be so afraid."

I don't know how to respond to this. I don't have to be afraid? I try not to be, but it's all I've known for the longest time. Besides, no one has ever cared before; no one has given me the time to help me. I've never been given someone's sympathy, besides Tori. So I guess I don't know how to accept help. Neither of us say anything for a while, until Four speaks up.

"We're both worried about you, Tori and I." He pauses. "I know you haven't known me for a while, but listen to me. I care about you; you're my friend and I know you carry something on your back that crushes you with every step you take. But I'm here to tell you that you don't need to carry it all on your own... Please tell me, what happened to you?"

I don't know what to do, part of me wants to tell him, but part of me fears his reaction. I am about to shrug it away and tell him to leave me alone, but I don't. He came here; he's afraid of heights yet he is on my roof. Also, he didn't run when he saw my scar, I did. He sincerely cares enough to want to help me. But I'm not ready to trust him just yet...

"You... you don't think I'm a freak? I mean, you saw it... "

"Tris, it doesn't matter what I saw, what I _see_ is different. I see someone who's been hurt, and you hide that scar like you hide your problems."

What if keeping what's bottled up inside isn't what is best? But I'm not ready to tell him everything; one day, maybe, but not today. "You know, I've never really told anyone this. Well, not directly. Except Tori."

"You can trust me, I promise you that." And his pure eyes are what really convince me.

"I was 15... 15 when _it_ happened." Huh, this is harder than I thought.

"What happened?" He asks.

"I was attacked by a man, and he had a knife. I tried to get away, to fight back, but... He, he had a knife held against me." I pull down my shirt, just enough to reveal my scar more clearly. "When I tried to get away, he cut me."

The tears are threatening to spill over. Thinking about what happened is different than saying it out loud; it's a lot harder and more real. I look up to him, and it looks like he isn't breathing. But what scares me the most is the look in his eyes, like he is a bomb about to explode. "You were attacked?! Who was it? What happened?"

I turn away, not wanting to show my weakness. I know I should tell him everything, but I can't bring myself to do it. I feel his hand touch my back.

"It's okay, Tris. You can let yourself be in pain; you don't have to put up that wall, it's just me here. And you don't have to be afraid anymore." His voice is so gentle, and his words are so pure...

I collapse into a stream of tears, and I fall backwards into his embrace. He wraps his arms around me as my back shakes against his chest. I hear him whisper, "What did he do to you?"

"He... He ra-... I..." I can't get it out, like it refuses to get coughed up. "I... I was raped."

His grip around me gets stronger and I can feel his muscles tighten up. I don't need to turn around to see his face; he must be holding back every ounce of anger. But him holding onto me gives me stability, because I said it. I told someone the truth, well part of the truth.

"Who... What low-life bastard did that to you?" He says, and I can't tell him. I am not ready. You could say I've come to accept the rape in a way that I can kind of deal with it; all the extra stuff that goes with it, not so much. Everything with Caleb... I just can't, but maybe that's the next step.

"I... it's too much." I cry out, "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It does matter. Tris, he did the worst possible thing a person could do, to you."

"I can't... I mean, he got away," _with it._ "He's gone and there is nothing to do anymore, except to just move on. That's what I've been trying to do kind of... But..."

"You can't think of it that way; you can't just let him get away with it!"

"He has for the past two years, and no one gives a damn about me, no one has."

"I do, Tori does, and Christina and everybody else." He says, and his voice is strained. He turns me around so we are face to face. "Look at me, you aren't alone; we're all here for you. As much as I want to murder the guy who did this to you... I can't. You want to put this behind you, and maybe one day I can convince you to change your mind. But for now, I am here for you, as your... friend."

It takes everything in me to not completely melt into nothingness; these past few hours have been more than my body can handle, and I think Four can see that. I feel myself drifting more and more away, and he takes my hand and half guides me, half carries me back inside the house. He lays me on the couch in the living room and gently lets a blanket fall on me.

"Thanks." I tell him and it doesn't feel like enough. He nods his head and begins to walk away, but quickly grab his hand, stopping him from leaving. I don't want him to leave; I want him to stay here, holding my hand. Sleeping has brought vigerous moments I don't want to face alone, and I realize that. He gives me stability in a way I can't describe. So it is him and me, hand in hand, and I keep holding on just because I want to.

"I'm not used to it, you know. I just want you to know that I'm trying; I want to be better, I just don't know how after all this time." I tell him, "Thank you, Four. Thank you for being here for me."

"Tobias. My name is Tobias." He tells me, and I don't know if I take it all in, or it flies away from me. Tobias; his name is Tobias. And Tobias is my friend, or maybe...

"Thank you, Tobias." I say with a small smile reaching my lips and sleep overcoming me.

* * *

**A/N: Alright everyone, I am holding a contest! You all have a chance to add your own personal touch to this story! If you have a good idea for a character, plot twist, or whatever, you will become a character in this story. You can either leave a review or PM me, which ever is easier. And you don't have to have an amazing idea to become part of the story; be creative and surprise me with something up all your wonderful sleeve's. Even if it is some kind words, you never know what could spark something! (I already have one new character in mind, so that 'name' is up for grabs!) If you are lucky enough to be a part of the story, your character's name will be based off your pen-name. Good luck!**

**Be brave, everyone!**


	16. Chapter 15

I do not own anything, just my ideas!

**Chapter 15:**

Four's POV

Is it possible to murder someone by just thinking about it? The brain is an extraordinary thing that can do so many things already; what's one more? A lot of people underestimate the power it can hold, and with all the hatred I am feeling, I am about to explode. Raped?! She was raped? I swear if I ever find out who it was, he better pray we never meet. Because shit would go down.

I guess everything makes sense now, but it shouldn't. Everything that's happened to her and the effect it's had; it shouldn't be this way, but it is. The way she stays away from people, she must be constantly worried it will all come spilling back onto her. The way she's always drawing; it must be something she uses to release her feelings. That second sketchbook! I can't imagine what those pages hold. And her reaction to the knives we threw back when I was giving her lessons. If I would've known about the scar, I wouldn't have used them; I feel so stupid.

She faced that fear, though, all by herself. That's how strong she is; she can swallow the worst part of her life and turn it into a strength she can use to defend herself. And she doesn't have to tell me to not tell anyone the truth about her. I know what it's like to hide something personal, something that I'm ashamed of. She's so strong; she has to be the strongest person I've met. She has gone through this whole hell by herself; she's made herself stand when the world tried to keep her down.

I'm the only one who knows, well besides Tori. Tori, I can't imagine how she feels through this whole thing; powerless, because she wants to help, but can only do so much. Tris doesn't want to feel any weaker than she already does, and she sees accepting help as a weakness that can be exploited on a larger scale. It has probably happened to her before, so she doesn't trust others. In fact, Tori told me about the bullying, and how no one believed her when she tried to tell people the truth. Other than that, Tori didn't say anything else. It's Tris' life, and she will tell me what she wants me to know when she wants to.

The thing is, she told me. On her own, she trusted me with the most vulnerable piece of herself. And I want to do the same for her; she deserves that. She doesn't have to go through this on her own, because I am like her. I've been given scars that I can not remove. And I think, I know, that we will be able to help each other. I just have to let her know that, and I know the best way to do it.

* * *

Ms. Reyes sticks her hand into the hat and pulls out a single strip of paper. "And last to perform today will be," she unfolds the strip and calls out, "Four and Zeke."

Originally, Zeke and I were doing something different, but I convinced him to change it at the last minute. He wasn't too happy at first, but now I owe him. Specifically, I owe him Dauntless Cake at Tori's after practice today. It doesn't matter to me; when it comes down to it, I get cake and I get to see Tris.

We walk to the front of the room and I grab two stools; one for myself and the other for Zeke, who has his guitar. He quickly tunes it to the correct key, and begins to play. I take a low breath and begin the song.

_When your day is long _

_And the night, the night is yours alone _

_When you're sure you've had enough of this life _

_Well, hang on_

_Don't let yourself go _

_'Cause everybody cries _

_And everybody hurts, sometimes_

_Sometimes everything is wrong _

_When your day is night alone, hold on _

_When you feel like letting go, hold on _

_'Cause everybody hurts _

_Take comfort in your friends _

_Everybody hurts _

_Don't throw your hand, oh no _

_Don't throw your hand _

_If you feel like you're alone _

_No, no, no, you're not alone_

_Well everybody hurts _

_Sometimes, everybody cries _

_Everybody hurts, sometimes _

_And everybody hurts, sometimes _

_So hold on _

Zeke finishes playing, and we get a standing ovation from the class. Moments later, the bell rings and we are swarmed by the class. Well, the girls in our class. I try to wiggle away and catch up to Tris, but I am blocked. I really want to talk to her, especially since I didn't see her at lunch because she was painting the whole time. She hasn't really talked to me since yesterday on her roof. I still can't believe I went up there with her, but it was with her. And she is always worth it.

I manage to get to my next class on time, barely. It doesn't matter whether I am on time or not because I do not pay attention to the lesson, and before I know it, the bell rings and it's the last period of the day. English; english with Tris. I have a little more of a bounce in my step, and I'm that person who's rushing through the hallway. My locker is right next to english, so I throw my stuff in my book-bag and head to class.

I walk in and I see her sitting at her desk with her head down, looking at whatever is on her desk. I make my way over to her and her head shoots up as I am steps away. Her peripheral vision must have seen me coming, and her instinct to protect herself must have sensed it. Either way, she looks up and meets my eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself." She replies, "It was really good, you know, that song you did with Zeke earlier today."

"The song, right; thanks. Umm, is there any way I can talk to you? I want to tell you something; it's kind of important. And it has something to do with the song."

"Okay, I'm working on the mural after school today, but I really want to get a big part of that done."

"Don't you have a few minutes to ta-" _BRRRRRING _the bell chimes, cutting me off.

"I'll talk to you after class." I tell her as I walk to my desk. Class is pretty uneventful, but I note that our teacher makes an announcement that the project's due date is sneaking up. Good; another way to spend time with Tris. The whole bravery thing gets me every time. I guess it's interesting looking into the what drives people to do certain things. I like the idea of selfless bravery; it's the best kind because it is the purest and strongest.

The final bell of the day rings and the class clears in a blink of an eye, except for one person. She, unlike the others, is just now starting to pack up her stuff. She is taking her time, making sure every notebook and pen is where it should be and stands up. She begins to walk out when I stride up next to her. That protective instinct she has picks me up and she gives me a sidewards glance.

"You weren't kidding about wanting to talk, were you?" She says.

"No, I wasn't." I hear her give a sigh, and she continues down the hallway. The short walk to her locker is quite, but not awkward. What is uncomfortable, well more uncomfortable for Tris, is the glances that get shot our way. I've learned to ignore them, because they don't mean anything, but Tris isn't used to it.

"You don't have to walk with me, you know. Besides, don't you have practice after school?"

"There's a teacher's meeting after school today, so coach moved practice back a little bit."

"Still... I know you want to talk, it's just, you don't have to be with me all the time. Besides, after yesterday... Anyway, I know there are probably other places you could be and other people you could be talking to, and..." She begins to trail off as she puts the last book in her book-bag; she places her red-letter sketchbook in her arms, and we walk outside. She doesn't see how much she means to me, and it makes my heart ache a little. There are only a few things that I consider important to me, and one of them is her. Well, just being with her, talking with her; one conversation with her brings this feeling that I am beginning to get addicted to.

"Hey, I want to talk to _you_." I tell her, "And if you don't want to talk anymore about yesterday, you don't have to. I do want to tell you something, though."

"I don't know. There was a lot said yesterday, I think it needs some time to... fade away." She takes a breathe, "I'm sorry, it's just that, it's had such an affect on me for so long, I don't want it to anymore. Huh, this doesn't make sense. Well, it makes sense in my head, but not when I try to say it."

"You don't have to have it together all the time, you know. It's okay to let yourself go every once in a while. I know when you were playing paintball, when you were stepping out of your comfort zone, you felt free. Sometimes, it's not about making it right, but making it better."

"Look, I know you're trying to help, but I have to go; I've got to get to the mural." She starts to walk faster towards the cafeteria, but I chase after her. I catch up and I reach for her arm. I entangle my hand in hers and I pull her back.

"Please, Tris. Five minutes, that's all I want."

"Alright, five minutes." She says, and I look around and see the storage closet a few feet away. The hallway is too busy with people so I lead us into the closet, closing the door from the rest of the world. Now it's just us.

"I'm sorry I'm like this." She says, "I'm not used to anyone knowing, well anyone here knowing. It's easier to keep it a secret, and now that someone knows... I just want to let it go."

"If you're trying to give an explanation, you don't need to. Some things aren't that simple. Something big like that, you don't forget it, as much as you try."

"Maybe, maybe not. It would be easier if they were, though."

"But easier doesn't make you better; going through the tough times, they make you a better person, a stronger person."

"Sure, it's easy to say that, but what about actually doing that? Anyway, how would you know? I know you're trying to make me feel better, but... you don't know."

"Actually, that is what I wanted to talk to you about. What happened yesterday, I just want you to know I think you deserve better and you're not alone."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you have an idea. You were in music today. Tris, that wasn't something that was just thrown together..." She is quiet for a moment, as her busy mind thinks back to class. By the look on her face, she knew there was something more, but didn't think more about it.

"So you've... No, you can't; I mean, you, alone. How-"

"Tris, like it said, it's not that simple...You... you're not alone. You're not alone because I know what it's like. I've been on the other side of horrible things. I... I have unremovable scars, too."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Not what I can say, but what I can show you..." I say as I remove my bag from my shoulder, "I'm going to show you something that no else has seen-"

"Wait! What are you doing? Why are you doing this? You don't have to, so why?"

"You trusted me with something that you have kept so far inside of you, I want to do the same. I know what it's like to live with it. I think you've gone through this on your own and you can get better, like you wanted, if you knew there are more of us out there. I care about you, and I want to share part of myself to you." I turn around and I lift the back of my shirt up to my neck, revealing the marks of hate given to me from my father. I hear her gasp, and her gentle hand brushes against my scars.

"Who... How... I had no idea."

"No one does, I hide it has best I can... Like you."

"You do a better job, and no one doubts you."

"That's a lie." I say as I pull my shirt down and turn to face her, "The person who did this to me, he doubts everything about me. I may act like I am strong, that I am brave, but I never truly feel it, except..."

"Except what? How could you not be brave?"

"When I am with you, I don't know how to say it, you make me feel stronger. You wake me up from sleep walking around through this thing they call high school, because I guess you make me see some kind of meaning in it."

"I don't know about all that... But you, you help me. I mean, you're the first person who has found and still treats me like a human being, like I am just like everyone else. Sometimes all I want is normal. Sure, normal is boring, but it's safe and it'd be a nice break." She sighs, "This is..."

"Good. And good may not seem like the most amazing thing, or most inspired, but it feels like something so much more."

"This is so weird for me. The last time I... well, I'm sure you can figure the rest out. I never imagined I would ever find a friend here, someone who really cares."

"Don't ever doubt how much I care about you. And you don't have to worry about anyone finding out about you, I give you my word."

"I won't say anything, either. I still can't believe you...

"I know, I try to not believe it, too."

"But like you said, it's not about making it right, but making it better. I think that time will make things right, but for now... Time is what I need."

"Does that really work, though?"

"Sometimes yes, other times not so much. That's only because there is so much that time can erase. That's when I get stumped; what do I do when I have nothing else to help?"

"We learn to live with it. We build ourselves in a way that will make us strong enough to not let it dictate us."

"You make it sound so easy, like a walk in the park."

"Sometimes a walk in the park is all you need. A thing that calms you and gives you a break, because it's not about living with it, but living through it. The difference is that living with it lets it hang on you and pull you down. Living through it gives you more freedom to walk freely."

She doesn't say anything for a while, but I see that behind her eyes a million screws are turning. Round and round. She snaps out of her trance, and looks at her watch. "Umm, it's been more than five minutes..."

I know that, and I will probably be late to football, but I don't give it a second thought. "I guess you're right. I'll walk you to the cafeteria."

"It's only a few feet away; I'll be fine."

"I know." I grab both our bags and she leads us to the cafeteria, where all her paint is set up ready to go. I lay her stuff on a table and she begins to put on her smock.

"If you want to talk," I begin, "I'm always a call away, don't hesitate."

"Thanks, and uh... you, you too Four."

"Tobias. You can call me Tobias, I like it more."

"Tobias. Tobias, I am free to listen if you want to talk." I love hearing her say my name, and a smile takes over my face as I walk out to the field.

* * *

Practice comes to an end, but I am starving. I, along with a good number of guys on the team, want some food, so after practice we make our way to 21U. I guess it just so happens that Tris is working tonight, too. Ever since our talk yesterday, I feel like I have more of a bounce in my step; that there aren't chains dragging me down.

During practice, the guys were talking about Homecoming, and it has dragged out to here. I like it as much as the next person, but it isn't my favorite thing. I feel obligated to go, though. I mean, you can't just not go; it's Homecoming. And with me being not just on the team, but captain, I really should go. Also, I wouldn't be surprised if I get on the Homecoming court. It's attention that I do not want.

I guess if I'm going to go, I want to go with Tris. She nothing like any other girls at our school, and well damn it, I really, really like her. Besides, I'm the only one who knows about her, and that has to mean something, right? I know other guys like her; I have ears. She is so beautiful, but in a special way all her own. And she has impressed a lot of people with the mural. These guys, though, they just see how pretty she is and her painting, but I see more. I see her strength and how smart she is. We share something that no one else does.

I've got to do something soon, before it is too late. I stand up and look around for her. She's standing at the counter, and I begin to walk up to her. I'm doing this. I've had about half a dozen guys try to sac me, I've climbed up a water tower, I've faced my father, I can do this. I'm about half way to the counter when my path is intercepted by someone else. It's James, a guy that plays defense on the team, and he is walking with confidence towards Tris. And I begin to think the worst.

"Hey, Tris." He says.

"Oh, hi. Do you need anything?"

"Uh, yeah. Did you get the pre-calc homework problems written down? I forgot them at school."

"Oh, umm, I did. Wait just a second; they're in the back." Tris walks to the back and some of the other defenders on the team begin to walk over to James, each one carrying a mini-poster. Tris walks back in and her eyes widen as she sees the crowd beginning to form around her. I know she doesn't like it and this will not be good.

"Tris," James says, "I wanted to ask you if you would go to Homecoming with me?"

My heart stabs with pain, and I can not breath. The pain is replaced with jealousy and back to pain; these emotion interchange each other at the speed of light. There is something in me that is sure she will say no, but there is the doubt as well. I doubt she put much thought into it, probably thinking no one would ask her. Or she just isn't like other girls and doesn't focus on that stuff. Either way, my lungs will not find relief until she gives and answer. And, oh, her answer...

* * *

**A/N: I hope all of y'all enjoyed this chapter. I had it done, but then two days ago I completely changed half of it... So I hope it is better! For some reason, EVERYONE loves Four's POV and really don't know why. (So if you could tell me what you like about it so much, I will target it when I write future chapters.) I try to do every other chapter in their different POVs, but it is hard with the way the story is set up. I try very hard though! **

**Also, I love all of you who have submitted different ideas! A lot of them are the same, having Peter come back. Let me say, it will happen, but not for a while. I need time for Tris to heal and for her and Tobias to grow closer. They will not fall in love over night; it will slowly build. And the more that time goes by before Peter comes back, the closer Tris and Tobias will be. The closer they are, the more meaningful everything will be! Right now, I want things to take their time, just like they would in real life. If you all are dauntless-adrenaline-junkies well... we all know how Tobias feels about you.**

**Be brave, everyone!**


	17. Chapter 16

I do not own anything, just my ideas!

**Chapter 16**

Tris' POV

"No." I say, and I can feel the air get less dense. I can see the disappointment on his face, but I'm not going to let someone asking me change my mind. And I made up my mind a while ago. "It's not that I don't want to go with you... I'm just not going, at all."

"What do you mean you're not going?"

"That's it, I'm not going."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to go and I don't have to go. Why should I go to something I won't have fun at?"

"Whose says you won't have fun? Come on, I'll show you a good time."

"Tempting, but I'll pass. Homecoming... It's not really my thing and I'd just rather not deal with it all." I say as politely as I can. I have my reasons and he doesn't need to know them. "Now, if you don't mind, I have costumers to serve."

I feel like there are a million eyes drilling through me. It isn't the first rejection this place has seen, and I'm sure it isn't the last. It's not something I want to publicize, but I'm not going to the dance. And I made this choice a few weeks ago. If Homecoming at my old school is anything like the one here, I do not want to get anywhere near it. Dances like that, they're loud and dark and crowded and... and... it's a nightmare just waiting to happen.

I don't have to go, and I don't feel obligated to go. I've been going to this school for only a few weeks and I don't know that many people. And the way people dance at Homecoming-it's not really my thing. And my past with Homecoming is not good. The last time I went was back in New York and, well, it wasn't pretty. Not pretty at all.

* * *

Even though I am not going to the dance, I am still a friend. As much as I am willing to deny I have anything close to a friend, I can't. As small as this friendship might feel, I am Christina's friend, and that implies me to go to the mall with her and help her pick out a dress. We walk into the department store and her face immediately lights up.

"Huh," she sighs, "don't you just love shopping. Finding something amazing, and finding it on sale, well, it is just the best feeling."

"Yeah, it's fun. Can we just get in and get out?"

"Come on, at least pretend to have some fun."

"I'm trying."

"I think you'd have more fun if you were trying these on with me. I know you for some reason are not planning on going, but you may change your mind. And I want you to have a back up plan in case that happens."

"Well it won't. I'm perfectly fine helping you find your dress."

"At least try some on. You could work any of these dresses easily; if you're so against it, prove me wrong."

"I know what you are trying to do, and it won't work."

"Can't blame a girl for trying."

We walk to the dress section and I have to admit, some of them are really, really pretty. Christina manages to work miracles and find the most gorgeous things. She groups up a couple good potential ones, and I give her one or two nice ones I see. We walk to the dressing rooms and she disappears into one of them to change. I sit in one of the chairs just outside of the her room, and I can't help myself. I imagine a scenario of me actually going to Homecoming. Actually, something better than a silly dance.

I imagine myself without the marks I've developed over the years. I see myself wearing a dress that is not too flashy... Well, not flashy at all, and where I am is not some ridiculous, cliche dance. I'm in the park, wearing that simple, beautiful dress, and there is someone there with me. He is standing there right next to me, and everything about him makes me want to be closer. Being next to him brings butterflies to my stomach and makes my entire body feel like it's melting. These feelings are different, but a good different.

My daydream breaks as Christina comes out of the dressing room looking amazing; she is so tall, she looks like a model in each dress. Each one she tries on looks better than the last one. After a couple, I roam around and find myself looking at a rack of dresses in my size. I shift through a couple and my eyes fall on some good ones. Well, they would look nice on others; not me. One in particular has a sweetheart neckline that would show my scar. I don't notice Christina walking up to me, an evil look on her face.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist!" She yelps.

"I could never wear half of these."

"What about this one?" She pulls out a tight black dress. It has a lose skirt to it, but the top is tight and strapless. I give my head a shake and she shrugs her shoulders and continues to look for something. I guess I have fallen, because I find myself looking for something for me. I can't even remember the last time I have gotten something for myself.

We somehow find a few for me to try on, and I can't believe I am doing this. I guess it would be nice to do something self-indulgent just once. I walk into the changing room and I don't bother to look at the mirror while I strip down and put the first dress on. I check just once to make sure everything is covered and I walk out.

"It's a nice dress, but it isn't good for you. It grabs you in the wrong places. Try the one shoulder on, that one looks like it would work." She tells me.

I walk back in and take the dress off. I take a small glance at my reflection, and I can't help but feel a little surprised. My two scars are where I left them, staining my skin. But I've filled in a little bit. My body doesn't look as weak as it did at the beginning of the summer, at the beginning of camp. The alcohol had a really bad effect on my body, on top of not eating. When I had my baby, I gained some weight, and I was so desperate to lose it. I guess I thought if I went back to the way I was before, people would forget easier; I would forget. But it didn't work, and after not eating a lot for a few months, it kind of stuck.

But at camp, they taught me ways to channel my energy, my anger, my grief. That was where the boxing came from and the drawing. I remember staying in a room all day, and just poring every emotion in my body into a painting. Then doing the same thing the next day in a sketch book. My sketch book is like my own personal memory bank, filled with every detail of how I see the world and what I've experienced in my life.

"You okay in there?" Christina asks.

"Yeah, sorry-Daydreaming, I guess."

I pull the one shoulder dress off the hanger and put it on. It falls just above my knees and the black skirt is not extremely tight, but just lose enough. There is a dark grey strip that ties in the back that divides the dress; the top part of the dress is cream colored and tight. It wraps up along my shoulder on the same side of my scar, so it hides my scar perfectly. The top of the strap of the one-shoulder is bejeweled with white, black, and grey gems. I walk out and Christina gasps.

"That looks amazing on you! You look so pretty, and I don't care if you are not going to Homecoming, you are getting that dress. And who knows, you may change your mind; besides, you never know when you'll need a dress." She says really fast and on the verge of a squeal and we go pay for our dresses and go home. She decided on a tight black strapless dress that looks really good on her.

I'm not surprised that the car ride home is not silent. I'm with Christina, I might add.

"So are we going to talk about the fact that you are not going. I'm your friend, and you're not going to tell me the reason why?"

"I'm not going because I don't want to. Why should I do something that I won't have fun at?"

"Won't have fun? I can solve that problem. I'll ditch Will and we can go together."

"Really? Ditch Will? I'm not going to do that to you two. Besides, Homecoming brings... bad memories."

"And I'm guessing these bad memories will not be spoken of."

"You're guess is correct."

"You know what? I have the perfect way to fix that problem, make new memories. If all you can do is think about bad things when you think about Homecoming, then we need to replace them with good ones."

"Nice try. It's more complicated than that."

"Then talk to me. I hate seeing you unhappy and I want to change that. If talking about this bad memory will make you feel better-"

"No!" I yelp, "Sorry, you know I'm not much of a talker."

"Yeah, I've noticed." She says with a slight grin, "If I'm willing to meet you half-way, will you comply to do the same?"

"Depends... What were you thinking?"

"Okay, stay with me." She begins, "I know you don't want to go to the dance, but what about before. The best part of it all is getting ready, anyway. Join us when we do hair, makeup, nails, the whole lot. And you can wear your new dress! Or you can borrow one of my more casual dresses. You shouldn't be cooped up by yourself at home the entire night. Pleeeease?"

"Okay."

"Wait, what was that? I didn't hear you."

"Watch it, I can always change my mind."

"But you won't; no one turns down a makeover from Christina." And we both laugh. She pulls up to my house and we give our goodbyes and part ways. Once I'm inside, I go straight to my room and put the dress in the back of the closet. I don't regret getting the dress, I really don't. Maybe I will find an excuse to wear one day. But, for now, I'm wearing sweatpants.

* * *

Friday rolls in faster than usual this week. This Friday is different, though; there is a football game, like always, but this one is really far. It's the away game of all away games. The school is arranging a 'spirit bus' to transport a group of students to the game and back. You can bet your bottom I will not be on the bus. Tori though, she is an avid fan of the team and she knows about the deal I have with Tobias. She is set with driving me to the game and we will sit together like every other Friday.

The drive over has its natural silence, mostly because we both want to dissolve into the music that's playing. When it's just the two of us, especially with a long drive, we like to listen to music; music that reminds us of her. The windows are down, and the fall air is whistling through the car and mixing with the music. Right now, we have _Shania Twain's Greatest Hits_ playing again. It was my mom's favorite. In fact, she had to buy another CD because she used the first one so much it got scratched to a point where it couldn't be used.

I don't sing much, but I am singing now. It's just the two of us here and it feels like home. "That Don't Impress Me Much" rings as we drive along the pale road. We listen to it all the time, more than the others, but that is fine with me. Music has this magical quality about it in a way that it can transport you back in time and you are filled with those good memories.

We pull into the parking lot right when "Love Gets Me Every Time" finishes. It doesn't surprise me that there is a mass of blue and white swarming the gate to get into the field, after all, it is their home turf. I can feel myself tense up, but not because of the crowd. Their side will be full, but ours will be more scarce. I will be with Tori, and we will sit at the 50 yard line, just like every other time. All the people, they don't get to me, but something else does. I feel my heart drop because blue and white were my old high school's colors.

Tori grabs my shoulders and gives them a squeeze, then follows with a hug. She comes to my ear and says, "It's okay. You're here for our guys. I know a certain person waiting to see that you're here."

"Right, so I won't be skipping out on the bet. He knows I stay true to my word."

"Yeah, because the deal is on his mind, because that is what he cares about."

I don't respond because I don't know how to. I came because of the deal. Didn't I? Would I have come if I weren't chained to a deal? I don't know, I guess we'll see if they lose tonight. But they won't lose, because I was working with Tobias this week-preparing him for tonight, and he is ready. During a free period, we watched film-We talked about strategy and I taught him a new trick play. A few times before school, we worked together on our workouts.

Tori and I walk into the gate and make way to the Visitor's Side. We pass a lot of people, and all their faces are unknown. I try to take mental pictures, because I've learned to always be on the look out, to read people because you never know what could happen and when something as simple as remembering a face will come in handy. And I guess with me, I blend easy, or at least I try to. Part of blending in is seeing what's around me.

A loud horn pulls me back from my concentration, and our guys are charging the field and beginning the pre-game warm up. I pull Tori's arm and we slow down so I can read the field. I see Uriah and Will next to each other as they do their high knees. Our slow pace brings us to our set of stairs, right in front of where we will sit. I stay at the fence, between our seats and the 50 yard line, and I look for one person in particular.

I want to make sure he knows I'm here; you know, for the deal. I'll have to wait a second, because the team is in their circle. All the guys are in a big circle, while Tobias and Zeke, the captains, run around in the middle pumping the guys up. They swarm in the middle and give one final holler, then they come to the side lines. I avert my eyes down and fidget with my hands. I give it a second, then I look up and look for a jersey with a four on it.

My eyes dart until they find a pair of dark blues looking my way. He gives me a happy grin and I return it with a half smile and a wave. I mouth, _Good Luck_, and he mouths back, _Thanks_. It's not much, but there was more said in our locked eyes. I give a whole smile, but not too big, and I climb the stairs to my seat. I look down and see our student section is actually bigger than I thought it would be, but that's okay. No one will try to drag me down there because there aren't that many. Because there is enough.

The ball is kicked off, and the game begins. Tobias and the offense take the field and begin their drive. Just like we saw in film, the other team's defense is solid. This is proven when Tobias gets sacked on the first down, and looks like it hurt. But Tobias, being as tough as he is, gets up as if nothing happened. I see that small strain, however; he can hide from others, but my eyes catch it because I've hidden pain like that.

Our guys fight back the next down as Tobias throws to Zeke on the outside for the first down. The guys move down the field at a steady pace without our running game, because their defense stops us every time. The guys make it to the 23 yard line, and it's 3rd and long. The guys break from their huddle and they square up at the line. The ball is snapped and Tobias shuffles on his feet, looking for an open man. He scans, but can't see anything and neither can I. He's getting charged at, and he is forced out of the pocket. He gets tackled hard and falls to the ground along with a few other guys on the other team.

Tobias makes his way to the sidelines and takes his helmet off. You can see the frustration on his face, but he hides the hurt from the hits because that is who he is. The specialty team comes out onto the field, led by Will. The ball is snapped and Will kicks it in between the two yellow poles. 3-0.

Both teams regroup and prepare for another kick-off. The little guy in blue catches the ball and spins past the tackle and lets his fast feet carry him all the way to our 37 yard line. I hear Tori groan next to me, but she replaces it with an encouraging clap. Our defense takes the field, and just like the other team, our defense is solid tonight, too. They progress closer and closer to the endzone, but at a slow pace. Uriah is a defensive-back, and his man is real quick. Uriah can't keep up with him, and they score a touchdown. The score is 7-3 at the end of the first quarter.

The second quarter is back and forth banter with no scoring. Our guys are approaching the 10 yard line with less than one minute left in the half, and they probably have one play left. It's 3rd and six, and the ball is snapped to Tobias with the clock ticking away. He can't find anybody open, but he sees one opening. He runs past the line of scrimmage and is about to enter the endzone when he gets nailed to the ground. I see the ball fly out and a pile-up begins. The refs run up and I see their hands pointing in the direction of the endzone. It doesn't matter because the clock says 0:00. Halftime.

The crowd of players thins as they walk away from the tackle; all the players, except one. My heart drops to my stomach because his jersey has a four on it, and he isn't moving.

* * *

**A/N: This is longer than I originally planned it to be, but I think it turned out good in the end. (I'm digging these cliff-hangers at the end of the chapter, even if the rest of you are not. Sorry.) And I promise you will find out the "bad memory" Tris has from Homecoming soon, just not yet. Also, sorry the answer to the Homecoming question was short; I'm holding back a little so when it comes it will explode. **

**A few housekeeping things, please vote for the poll that is up on my profile please! In an upcoming chapter, the topic the poll is about will come up. Next, to the guest who asked when Tobias will find out about Rose, the answer is not for a while; I have other things planned before that comes up. Lastly, please review, or if you have a question, PM! **

**Be brave, everyone!**


	18. Chapter 17

I don't own anything, just my ideas!

**Chapter 17: **

Four's POV

I remember the first time I felt it. That pain that drills into your body and makes every nerve spike with craze. This pain, it didn't happen when I fell off my bike and scabbed up my knee, or the time I got hit in the gut with a football. No, that dreadful day occurred when I was only nine years old. It was a summer night, not the one that radiates in your memory with glee, but one with rain and muggy air. One where no stars line the night sky, and the moon brings no salvation to the darkness.

I can still feel the burn of his touch on my skin, and the scars have never gone away. I don't make them go away, I only hide them. And sometimes, not all the time, but every now and then, I need a second. Just a small moment in time to take a break. I would never admit it to anyone, but all these hits tonight, they hurt. It takes all my strength to get up from every tackle and move forward. But that is what I must do.

And that is what I must do right now. From the right, I can see coach rush up to me with the trainer. The rest of the field slowly clears as the players drain into the locker rooms. Some of my guys stay, because we're brothers on this team and I know they're concerned. I want to get up, really. It kills me to stay on this ground, but my body refuses to get up. I fight every muscle for control, and I try to sit up, but I need the support of the others to bring myself up into a sitting position. The trainer tells me she wants to check me out in the field house, so I bring myself up off the ground.

I refuse the help of others for support as I trudge off the field. I don't want to feel any weaker than this moment right now. And it's not the hits that are getting to me. It's the fresh markings on my back that makes every step a struggle. It was recent, and he usual doesn't beat me close to game days, but he made an exception.

My eyes avert to the sidelines because I've trained myself to see her. She is no longer in her seat next to Tori; she stands at the fence. She's on her tip toes, fist clenching the fence that reaches her hips. The wind is blowing against her back, and her hair is disturbing her face. Her eyes are on mine, though, and mine are connected with hers. I don't have to tell her what's wrong with me-she probably already knows it, or she can guess.

I bet she wouldn't guess that every time I'm hit, every time my freshly torn skin aches, I think of her-because she lights a fire in me that makes me want to move forward. All I have to do is think of her and I forget about the pain, because all I can think about is her and protecting her. I know she can and wants to protect herself, but she doesn't have to do it on her own.

I hobble into the trainer's room. I strip off my jersey top and pads, only leaving my sleeveless under armour. She gives me the concussion test and checks my heart. She doesn't say anything, and I do not ask, because I don't want to know the answer. Especially if it is a bad one. She wants my to take off my under armour to check out my back, but I do not let her. After a few more test, coach walks into the room. The two of them move off the side, and I ease myself down and close my eyes.

I think back to one of the first beatings, well, one that really sticks in my mind. That night screams in my memory, and I try to forget it. You can't forget that, though. I can still hear the crack of leather, the anger in his voice, the desperation in my scream. I was a child, and he took that away from me.

We had come home from one of my pee-wee games, and according to him, I didn't play well enough because I was too scared of the other team. He needed to whip me into shape and show me not to be afraid, because like he said, it was all for my own good. He didn't want me to flinch when someone came at me, so he'd bring the leather to my bare skin and his pale hand to my cheek until I learned not to flinch. This lesson was not learned fast.

For the longest time, I would train to be good enough for him, to satisfy him so he won't hurt me. It's cowardly and I know it, but I had to survive. Being my best isn't good enough; I have to be _the_ best. Training as hard as I can, being _the_ best is just a means of survival. If I was on the field, he wasn't-it was my only safe haven.

But now, I have a new reason to be the best. It sounds ridiculous, being the best for a girl, but Tris isn't just a girl. In these short few weeks, she's shown me so much. And it isn't about trying to impress her-at least, it's not my focus. I want to be strong for her, to show her it's okay to get beat down, because you can pull yourself up. The greatest victory is getting up after you fall, and refusing to stay down. I sometimes have trouble winning these victories. But I'm not alone, now.

I snap back to reality when coach grabs my shoulder. Both him and the trainer have grave faces. The trainer speaks up first, "I don't see anything major. You _might_ have a small concussion, and I think you should sit out the rest of the game. But it's your call, only you know you."

I give a look, and I really think about it. It would kill me to sit out and let the other team beat me down. But my body aches in ways that I haven't felt in a really long time. It wouldn't be fair to anyone if I went out there not feeling one hundred percent, but I can't imagine what my father would do if he were here. He's always in the back of my mind, no matter how hard I try to push him out.

"I don't know what to do." I say, and the words are bitter as they fall off my tongue.

Coach sighs, "Okay, there's about eight more minutes left in half, think about it until then. For now, we're going to start warming up the second string. He'll probably start the half-Just let us know what your defiant answer is."

The both leave, and I hear the guys run out of the FH and onto the field. I want yell in frustration, but I learned a long time ago to control my emotions-or at least try to. I can't tell how much time goes by before I hear footsteps walking in the Field House. I want to yell at them to go away, but I stop when I see who is in the door frame.

"I'm sorry, I don't know if I'm aloud to be back here, but I had to check on you." Tris says, "I was worried when I didn't see you running out onto the field." Her eyes speak the words she is saying, and she has migrated over to my side.

"It kills me not being out there."

"I know... Are you okay. I mean, you weren't moving, and I was freaking out and..." Her voice's urgency dies down as she calms herself, "Is it what I think it is? The hit you hard in the back, and I know your... sensitive there."

"Yeah, the hits tonight are harder than normal."

"That's not all of it; there's more to it."

_I knew you'd see it._ "He, my father... Last night was..." I can't even admit it to her, but the look in her eye says that she knows the rest.

"Before a game? Why? I mean, who does that?" The urgency is back.

"He does, and it should scare the crap out of me, but it does." I look away because I don't want her seeing me this way.

"You fear him."

"...Yes, I do. I try to ignore them and act like they don't exist. I hate being afraid of him."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of; we're all afraid of something. Your fears make you who you are. They dictate what's important to you, and what you think about. Pretending they don't exist may make you 'braver' or 'stronger', but that takes away your humanity. You are only as good as your greatest weakness. And it's okay to have weaknesses because it what makes you human."

"And here I am trying to be Superman."

"It's not that simple... And besides, even Superman has a kryptonite." _It's you._

"I guess it's impossible to be fearless, even though it'd be nice to be."

"But you care about things, and that is where most fears originate. Fear is a fire that burns from inside and even in the coldest of hearts. It motivates and paralyzes the best of us. Or, it is used as a weapon by the worst." She tells me, "Don't give him that power. And I know better than anyone else how hard it is, but one thing keeps me going."

"And what's that?"

"Sometimes it changes, but I believe that one day-it may be tomorrow, it may years from now-things will work themselves out. Those people who do horrible things, they're afraid of something, just like us. And I have to believe that they will get what's coming to them." She tells me, "I know it's hard to swallow, I choke on it every day."

"And you really believe that?"

"I believe that... I want to be strong, to prove to myself and others that I'm worth something. And it is so, so incredibly hard."

I want to prove to her that it's worth it, going through the pain for the end result. She deserves more, and so do I. I do. It's weird hearing her talk like this-so brave. She knows what it's like, and she knows what it takes to get better... no matter how hard it is. And it begins right here and now. The first step is small and hard, but she is here next to me, giving me strength.

"I'm going back out there." I say.

"What? Aren't you hurt?"

"I don't have anything officially wrong with me. All that hurts is my back, and I don't want _him_ ruining my game, because it's my time. I'm not going to let the team down, or the school... or you."

I surprised her, because she doesn't say anything. "... Oh, you mean the deal. Right, you don't want to lose, especially with the Homecoming game coming up."

"Right, the deal..." I trail away. I begin to slide myself back onto my feet, and Tris reaches out her hands and wraps them around my arm, helping me. I put my pads back on and she hands me my jersey. We begin to walk out, and something happens that sends a shock wave through me. She grabs my hand. It's light and delicate, like she is unsure. But her grip slightly tightens as we take more paces down the hall.

She stops right at the exit, and just stands there. "What is it?" I ask.

She lets out a large sigh, "I know I talked a big game in there, but I want you to know that I'm still so scared. I'm nothing like what I talked about."

"Are you kidding, you're one of the strongest-"

"Wait. Just... _you_ are strong and I believe it. You may think the same of me, but that is what I think of you." She takes a step closer and hushes her voice, "I've been scared for what feels like my whole life, so you go a prove that all the stuff I said is true. And you crush this team or go down fighting. Either way... I'll be proud."

This send my heart racing and my body pulses with energy. Without hesitation, I encircle my arms around her. We stand there for only a few moments, and it doesn't feel like enough. Everything I'm feeling... I feel like I will explode. "Good luck, Tobias." She whispers in my ear.

"Thanks, Tris." We part ways and she goes back to her seat and I approach the sidelines. The guys around me give a cheer, and coach gives me a relieved look as I approach him.

"I knew you couldn't resist. Just, don't over do it. We don't need you getting more hurt than you already are."

"I know; I've got this." Right now we're on defense and the scoreboard reads 1:58 left in the third quarter and the score is 10-3. The other team has the ball on our 12 yard line, and if we don't hold them, they'll score a touchdown. The ball is snapped, and their quarterback looks for an open man. Our guys are inching closer to him, and he is getting rushed. He can't find an open man except-he sees him now. He pumps his arm and lets the ball fly.

Out of nowhere, Uriah leaps and snatches the ball out of the air. I join the others in a thunderous yell as Uriah's fast feet take him all the way to their 20 yard line. The other defenders and I take the field as the clock ticks away at the quarter. We don't want to lose our energy, so I pump them up and call our classic play.

I receive the ball and fake it to our running back, then I find my man and fire. He catches and spins past the defender. He runs all the way to the in-zone. The crowd goes crazy and I turn my attention to Tris, sitting in her spot. I point at her, and she knows what I am saying. As the end of the third quarter comes upon us, it's a brand new game. 10-10.

The fourth quarter begins with Will kicking off to the other team. They call a fair catch, and our defense takes the field again. But this time, our guys are filled with a new energy they didn't have before. In no time, the other team is four and out and their punting team comes on. We respond with a fair catch and begin our drive for the win. It's a slow drive, reducing to third downs almost every time.

We come to the 18 yard line, having already eaten almost eight minutes from the clock. It's third down and 5. I get snapped the ball, and the blitz approaches just as fast. I try to find an opening, something to get the first down, but I am tackled down to the ground. We leave the field as the specialty team goes on. I give Will an encouraging pat and we go our separate ways. The ball is snapped and Will kicks it good for three. 10-13, and we've got the lead.

All we have to do is stop them and run down the clock and we win! We've been working our defense hard, and it all comes down to this moment-pushing till the end. And that is what they do. The other team tries to pull a Hail Mary, but they fail as the final seconds disappear. Our guys erupt in triumphant cheers.

I look over to the sidelines, and usually I don't get consumed into the crowd, but I can't help myself. I run up the fence and hop over it. I run up to Tris and I wrap my arms around her. I probably smell really bad, but she doesn't care because she responds by returning the hug. The rest of the world is gone and it is just us standing on the metal bleachers.

"You did it. You really did it." She says, and I pull away slightly. I look deep into her blues eyes that have turned more grey in the dark twilight, and I place one of my hands on her cheek. I want her to understand what I am about to say to her.

"We did it. There's no way I could have done what I did without you. You make me believe in myself when nobody else can help. So thank _you_." The adrenaline is still coursing through my veins and my heart races inside my chest. Her touch on my skin makes it light up with sparks and warmth. Her eyes are so bright and attentive; they have the ability to look down into my soul and read every part of my mind. I do not notice anything else around except for the two of us. I try to close the distance between us, but she pulls away slightly.

"Your teammates are calling you."

I look over and I let out a sigh-I just want to be with her right now.

"Go," she says, "we can talk later."

I slowly let her out of my grasp and make my way back to the field. Some of them give me looks of envy, but I do not give them a second thought. All I can think about is her in my arms and those beautiful, haunting blue and grey eyes. Those eyes that wake me up and calm me at the same time. Those eyes that have seen too much-more than they ever should see. But we will prove that what she said earlier really is true, and we will fight.

And I don't even notice the pain radiating from my back.

* * *

**A/N: Let's play a game! Starting this chapter, I'm pulling a line from a TV show, or a movie, or a song. You try to find the line and the show/movie/song it's from. The first person to get it right will get a S/O in the next chapter and maybe another something special. (We'll see.) I am going to try to do this every chapter, but if I don't, I will let you know. Since this is a trial run, I have put two in this chapter. And because I am such a nice person, I will give hints. One of the lines is from a TV show on ABC that airs on Sundays, and the other is a line from a song by a male artist whose initials are JM. Good Luck!**

**If some of you haven't noticed, I have been updating on the weekends. I try really, really hard to update on Sundays. And if I am really excited about a chapter, I will update on Saturdays. If I don't update by the weekend, I have writer's block and will need words of encouragement. The next chapter is supposed to have important information and then we enter Homecoming! Yeah! Also, please review!**

**Be brave, everyone!**


	19. Chapter 18

I do not own anything, just my ideas!

**Chapter 18:**

Tris' POV

"I'm proud of you. You know that?" Tori says as we drive down the open rode. I don't catch what she is saying at first because I am focusing on keeping myself calm. I shouldn't be nervous, because where I'm going isn't that big of a deal. But why do I find myself noting my breaths?

"Umm, I guess."

"I mean it. If we look back a mere few months..."

"I know." I say, cutting her off. I try to forget those times. It's not camp that I try to forget; it helped me when I was nothing. It's the place my father made me go to before the camp. The place his old family friend, J. Matthews, suggested to him. I shudder at the thought, thinking back to sitting in that chair, wires attaching me to that horrible machine.

"Are sure you don't need me to pick you up?"

"No, I'm sure someone will be willing to bring me home."

"Okay, but if you need anything or you want to come home early... just, let me know."

"I'll be fine; I'm a big girl."

"I know that, I just wish you could see that you are still only a girl and you're allowed to have fun. Promise me you'll try to have fun."

"That's why I'm going, isn't it?"

"I guess you have a point." She says with a light laugh and it dawns on me that I need to get rid of the scowl on my face. I take my hands up to my eyes and rub feeling back into them. I bring my attention back to the scenery out the window. The leaves' new colors are peaking through the green exterior they've hidden behind for months. The air is getting crisper as the sun begins its decent away from this part of the world. My eye lids slowly fall, making everything around me blurry.

I feel Tori pull into the driveway with the house number that is sketched on the piece of paper I'd received at the game last night. They won, again, and this time it wasn't very close. After everything that happened at the away game the week before, I don't blame the guys for wanting to make it an uneven battle.

I get out of the car, and that is when I notice the huge house standing in front of me. It's large, but not big enough to be obnoxious. It says, I'm important, but without rubbing it into your face. I walk up to the front porch and I barely put my knuckles to the door when it flies open. Christina throws herself in my direction with out stretched arms while Marlene stands behind her, yelling something into the house.

"It's about time! I was beginning to think you weren't going to come." Christina chirps into my ear.

"Well I'm here now."

"And the games about to start, so come on in!" I make my way into the beautiful house and I can hear the guys yelling in what I assume is the living room. I turn the corner and I'm met with the blaring TV while everyone from the lunch table is claiming their place on the couch.

I make a U-turn and head to the adjacent kitchen which holds enough food for even these guys. Everyone else is in the living room. All of them, except one... The host of this little party.

"Hey," Tobias says as he looks up, "I'm glad you made it."

"Thanks for inviting me. Your house is... big." I say, and I try not to make it sound strained, but I'm afraid it does.

"He's not here, you know. He's out of town on business." He tells me and I feel a bit of weight lifted off my shoulders. I don't know what I would do if I'd come face-to-face with that man. Part of me feels impossible anger for the man who has left tangible hate on my friend. But another part of me feels fear from the person who can be so deceitful as to hurt his own son.

"I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay. I wouldn't have invited everyone over to watch the game if he'd been home." We hear a marching band blast from the TV in the other room. We grab a bowl of popcorn and walk into the living room. I walk over and sit next to Marlene, who is in front of Christina while Tobias places himself next to Zeke.

At first when they asked me to come over to watch the game, I wasn't much in the mood. But, they convinced me. I cave so easily, and I thought I was tougher than that. They found my weakness, though. Football, and not just any football. College Football. The team playing today is decked in red and silver, and their band places themselves on the field spelling out _Ohio_, with that one little guy dancing around to be the dot on the _i_.

They're having a good year, and that is not the only reason I like them. My mom's parents went to Ohio State, and they met there. They wanted my mom to go there, but she wanted something more simple and smaller. Buckeye blood runs through this family's veins. Well, almost all of this family's veins. While some of us bleed red, others bleed blue.

The games begins, and I don't participate in the conversation Christina and Marlene are in because I am too focused on the game. As expected, the buckeyes get ahead early and they keep the lead throughout the first half. At times, I find myself yelling at the television, thinking the players can hear me all these miles away. Halftime comes upon us, and almost everyone moves to the kitchen to savor in the food that is on the table.

I walk out the backdoor and onto the patio in the back. The sun is all but gone behind the trees, and I hear someone open and close the door. The footsteps echo as they approach where I am standing.

"You're quite the buckeye fan."

"My grandparents on my mom's side went there. I've been raised to cheer for them, for the most part. In fact, it wasn't until recently that I've developed a true appreciation for them." I regret saying it the moment it leaves my lips. I normally keep my tongue in check, but when I'm with him, it just flows out.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Umm... It's a long story." My heart begins to ache and fill with rage all at the same time as I remember it all.

His choices. That's what it boils down to, and they've always been selfish. He made another choice that fall day, one that still burns into my soul like all the other choices he's made. A choice that pangs with betrayal and adds fuel to the fire of hate I hold with my brother. The day he chose Michigan was the day he showed he doesn't care and he never will.

"I can understand a long story. I mean, halftime is not going to last forever." He says, and it snaps me back to reality. I laugh because the time it would take to tell him doesn't matter, and he knows that. He knows some things aren't easy to talk about. He hasn't talked about the away game since that night. I know he was hit a lot, but there was something more. The way he carried himself, or at least tried to, after each sack. All he said was that his dad beat him again, but nothing more. I don't blame him... I'm not an open book either. That wasn't the only thing, though. He feels ashamed of the way his father takes advantage of him. I know the feeling.

His tone gets more serious as he adds, "It's about making it better... remember?"

"Even when nothing is right." I don't know how to make this issue better; I've struggled with it for so long, it seems like a part of me that will never go away.

"It can get better, you'll see. We should get back inside, the second half should be starting any second."

We both walk back into the house, and when Tobias finds a place on the ground in front of the couch, I join beside him. The game continues just as it did during the first half, but I enjoy it more. I block out the others and it is us too, praising and critiquing the different plays as they unfold on the screen.

Ohio State wins, as expected, and we all group around in the kitchen. A few beers are passed around, and I focus on my breaths and ignore the gateway I've tried to avoid. Either Tobias isn't a drinker, or his isn't very appealing, because he places the bottle in his hand back into the fridge. Only after giving me a hard stare.

I don't notice the time ticking away, that is until people begin to migrate towards the door. I offer to help Tobias clean up, and it's almost just the two of us left. Christina lingers, but Tobias reassures her that he will make sure I get home safe. At first, the only conversation that exist is the silent one; the one that involves eye contact, and the shuffling of feet as we move around. After a few minutes, he speaks up.

"So, what makes you such a big Ohio State fan?"

"I told you, I have family who's alumni."

"That's not all of it. There is more behind it, because there was an edge of anger behind your criticism during the game."

"I'll admit I have a strong hatred for Michigan; cheering for OSU comes with it."

"What's so bad about Michigan. You know, I've been there once for a visit a while ago because they were looking at me..."

"What?!" I scream out.

"No worries, it isn't much of a contender. I wasn't a fan of the coaches, or a lot of guys. I guess we didn't click. And besides, they already have a starter and a sophomore who is behind him, ready to take the spot." I cringe at his words, because I know that sophomore, but I push him out of my mind. "What makes you hate it so much?"

I don't know how to answer his question, so I decide it's best not to. I would rather not indulge into that part of my life, considering I've tried to submerge so deep down it will never resurface, because it is so painful. "I told you, it's a long story."

"I'd like to hear it."

"I don't like to tell it." I look up at him and look him in the eyes. "Your pretty nosey for someone who normally keeps to himself."

"Where have you heard that?"

"I have ears, you know." I don't know why it bothered me when that girl approached me earlier this week. She wanted to know what I 'was doing' with Four, and I told her the truth: We're friends, that all. But she wasn't convinced. She told me that he never gets close to anyone and doesn't care for girls... like me. I don't deal with girl drama like that, so I don't know what to make of it. I just try to ignore it, but the curiosity in me, the part that strives to understand and know different answers, wants to know.

"Then ask any question you want." I don't have to think hard. At first, I keep my curiosity in check, because that is how I was raised. But I realize I am a new person in a new place, and I have stepped out of the old life forever.

"Why don't you have people call you by your real name?"

"It's easier that way."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of question yourself."

"No I don't."

"You just asked two in time frame of less than ten seconds."

"You're right... I don't care." I say with a small grin reaching my lips. "I'm just making conversation while we clean up." Normally, I would work in silence, and silence has been... fine with me for a while now. But I feel comfortable around him.

"How about this? I ask a question, then you ask one. It's a game."

I look at my watch. "I have to get home. Maybe another time."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Of course you will." I say with a small laugh. We put the last thing away and then he takes me to his car. We're driving down the rode and I'm having a battle with myself. Part of me wants to open up to him and talk about it with him, but the part of me that has been holding back all these years, squishes that voice. I've always kept to myself because it was easier. I've never once felt compelled to open up to anyone, let alone a guy. He pulls up to my drive, and I begin to get out of the car.

I am about to close the door when I look at him and say, "I'm glad you're not going there. I wouldn't want you anywhere near someone as horrible as my brother."

Before he can respond, I close the door and walk into my house.

* * *

**A/N: Here are the answers to the last chapter:**_ "Fear is a fire that burns from inside and even in the coldest of hearts. It motivates and paralyzes the best of us. Or, it is used as a weapon by the worst." _**and **_"You make me believe in myself when nobody else can help." _**The first one is from the show **_Revenge_** and that specific quote was in the season 3 premier, "Fear". The second one is from the song, "Because You Live" by Jesse McCartney. The one in this chapter is from a movie. **

**I want to apologize in advance for the next few weeks. I know I promised every week would bring an update, but these next two(ish) weeks are INSANE and I don't know if I'll be able to update as adamantly. I have my own Homecoming, mid-term exams, ACT, and on top of all of that, I'm having surgery! This will mean one of two things: I'll be bored out of my mind and I'll write a lot, or I'll be in a daze of drugs and won't be able to be very productive. (So if there are any good stories anyone has read and want to suggest, please do. Especially because **_Allegiant_** doesn't come out till 4 days AFTER my surgery! Ugghhh!)**

**I originally planned for this chapter to be longer, but things are getting crazy and I wanted to give you guys something. Either the next chapter is going to be REALLY long, or I have to break it up... We'll see. Please review or PM! And, again, if you know of any good stories on FF, let me know because I need a distraction from the pain I am about to go through with this surgery! **

**Be brave, everyone!**


	20. Chapter 19

I don't own anything, just my ideas!

**Chapter 18:**

Four's POV

I wear a mask everyday, trying to be a better person than I feel inside. I wear a cape, thinking I can shield my back from others. But there is more to being a superhero than the flashy tights. I try to be a superhero everyday, so today isn't very hard.

Superhero Day. That is what today's theme is for spirit week. Yesterday was 'Merica Monday and the halls were lined with red, white, and blue. Today, though, is superhero day and I am actually really excited about it. I stride down the hallway wearing the superman t-shirt I got at the thrift store with Zeke on Sunday. I hope she notices it, because I got it for her. For the longest time, I've tried to appear to be the strong one; someone who isn't afraid. But she is helping me see that it's okay to have that kryptonite.

I, along with a few guys from the team, walk into the cafeteria. I see Tris standing in front of her masterpiece of curved lines and swarming colors. Today is the day that the students finish the mural she has spent the past few weeks on, and I must say, it looks better than I imagined. Even if it isn't done.

She stands in the front of the crowd, and I want to go up to her and be next to her. The stiffness in her shoulders, and the tightness in her muscles shows how uncomfortable she must be. Others might not see it, but I've trained myself to notice her and read her as best I can. Tris has spent so much time hiding every part of herself away, and she has gotten very good at it. But so have I. I read the parts of her that I've caught myself doing, and it feels weird, but comforting at the same time.

I purposely make my group go towards the end, because I want to be the last person to finish this mural with her. And maybe I can manage to squeeze a few minutes alone with her. In my group is a bunch of guys from the football team, including Zeke, Will, Uriah, and a few others on the team.

The dense crowd becomes smaller, as the the bird plastered to the wall gains its prowess feathers, one at a time. Our group gets the red paint on our hands and we find the place to make our feather. I can feel her walking up to us before I see her come.

"You guys ready?" She says timidly.

"Let's do this. I want our feather to be the biggest!" Uriah exclaims.

"Alright," Tris says, "here is your guys' line. Do what you wish, just make sure you stay on the line and... you know, make it look like a feather." Before she can walk to another group, I nudge her with my elbow.

"Don't worry, I'll watch them." She gives me a coy smile and continues down the row of people. We make our feather and go to wash our hands. I wave the guys ahead of me, and I go to see Tris. Almost all of the students have finished and she is cleaning up the paint.

"Don't tell me your cleaning this up by yourself?" I ask her.

"No, I had some help, but school's over and people have places to be, including you. I'm waving everyone off so they can get to where they need to be."

"I want to be here, helping you."

"Look at you, Superman."

"I was hoping you'd notice."

"I would've noticed more if you'd gone all out and worn a cape." She says with a smile spreading across her lips. I love that she can be this way, especially with how her past has affected her the way it has. She can try to be happy, and I hope I have something to do with it.

I saw her kindling fire burn low this weekend when she talked about her brother. I want to ask her what really happened, but I know not to. That question is one that is sacred and buried down so deep she will have to dig tooth and nail to get it out... If she even wants to get it out.

"Sorry to disappoint, but Zeke took my cape back in middle school... And he's wearing it today if you didn't notice."

"Oh, I saw."

"What about you?"

"Me?... I've got a t-shirt, but it's cold in here and I don't want paint getting on it." She says as she points to her smock covering her from her neck down to her knees.

"What shirt?"

"I borrowed it from Tori. She's a Thor fan and well..." She unbuttons the smock and underneath is a Thor t-shirt that is a little big on her.

"Looks good." I laugh.

"Don't make fun of me. I don't have to have school spirit." She says as she pulls the smock back on.

"No, I'm glad you're showing some spirit." I say as we finish cleaning up. We take the extra supplies to the closet next to the cafeteria and I realize I need to go. But I don't want to.

"You should go," she tells me, "I don't want you getting in trouble for being late."

"You don't need to worry about me."

"I do sometimes."

"Well, you shouldn't. The worst I'll have to do is run extra laps, which I do anyway. It's not like they're going to bench me."

"That would be unfortunate because then you would lose and that means the deal is off."

"I was hoping you would still come even if... But we won't lose."

"Sounding cocky again?"

"Not cocky, confident."

"Okay, Tobias. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." And she walks away, and I feel her taking a part of me with her.

* * *

We walk into music class and we are greeted with a large poster that is flipped so its back is facing us. Ms. Reyes is normally always in a good mood, but today she is buzzing with extra excitement. She flutters on her toes as she shuffles around the room with a large envelope in her hands. Everyone takes their seats as the final bell sends its ring ripping through the air. When things in class settle down, Ms. Reyes begins to speak.

"Class, I have some big news. We have been nominated to go to New York City for a music festival!" The class bursts into a tsunami of noise and excitement. But everyone can agree on one thing, we want to go. I turn to face Tris and her face is pale, and she isn't moving. I can't imagine why she wouldn't be happy about the news.

"You all should know that this did not come from nowhere. We have been recognized due to our tradition." I smile inwardly. This 'tradition' that we've started began my freshman year when Ms. Reyes and I decided to start it. Every holiday season, we learn a bunch of carols and we go around to nursery homes and sing to the elderly. It's small, but it means the world those lonely old people.

"Now, I want to take a vote and see if the majority wants to go. It is a big decision to do this." Half the class nearly jumps out of their seats, reassuring her that we want to go.

"Alright, I thought I would get this reaction." Our teacher says, trying to calm the class down. "There are a few things you should know; The festival is holiday themed, and we will have to prepare a few things to do for the festival, but I don't see that being a problem. Since we brought this up today, I want you all to start brainstorming for this trip, since we only have so much time till it's here. I have some form I need you all to fill out, as well.

One more thing, talk to your parents. We'll need chaperones." She begins passing packets around as the class breaks up and begins blabbering about the news. I look over to Tris, and it looks like she is going to be sick.

"Tris, are you okay?" I ask.

"I... I..." Is all she says, she can barely move. I reach for her hands and take them both in my own. I try to shake the life back into her, but she seems in a different place.

"Tris... Tris, talk to me." Her eyes snap back, but not all the way. Her face's color begins to flood back, slowly. I feel her hands squeeze my own, and I know she's coming back.

"Sorry," she mumbles, "I think I need some water." I take her arm in my own and walk her to the fountain. She doesn't say anything more, and when the bell rings, she disappears. I don't see her again for the rest of the day.

* * *

Tris' POV

New York? _My New York?!_ Of all the places... I feel like screaming, or crying, or just exploding. I don't know how to feel, so all I feel is numb. I don't remember what happens the rest of the day, all I remember is being in the kitchen at home with Tori.

"Tori, I can't do it; I just can't."

"Don't turn this down because you're afraid."

"... I'm not afraid." I say uneasy.

"Then why won't you go? Why can't you face it."

"Why are you so upset about it?"

"Because... because it's not all about you. Did you think about that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Tris, do you know the last time I saw her? The last time I got to talk to her? I haven't been to her grave since her funeral, and you can't imagine the emptiness I feel in my heart. If you go on this trip, I can chaperone and we can both go there. We can both see her."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"You can, and you want to know why?" I shrug, too empty to know what to feel.

"Because," she continues, "you aren't alone, and you're never alone. You have me and, whether you'll admit it or not, you have friends that care about you, too."

"After everything... I left her, I wasn't strong enough and I left her all alone in the cold ground. And I know dad doesn't see her and Caleb doesn't even think of her." My eyes begin to sting, and I have to fight the eruption I feel building inside me. Tori is silent for a moment, before continuing in a soft voice.

"You know that isn't true."

"What isn't true?"

"Your brother and father always have and always will love your mother... we all will."

"That's a lie, and you know it. They don't care about her. If Caleb cared, he wouldn't have abandoned me when I needed him most. He wouldn't have gone to the one school we swore we wouldn't. If dad cared, he wouldn't have been gone all the time. He wouldn't have sent me to that horrible place... that horr- " I can't finish, because I've broken down into a mess on the floor. Tori comes up next to me, and wraps her arms around my shaking body.

I can't control the tears streaming down my face. I don't remember the last time I've said it all out loud like this. Whenever I've felt myself breaking inside, I've poured it onto paper, or I've let in build inside me. But now I've been cracked, and everything is pouring out. I feel so vulnerable, and that makes me uneasy, but it's nice to have someone here next to me who cares.

Tori brings her mouth to my ear, "We may never know what they were thinking or what they're thinking now. You don't have to try to understand why they do the things they do."

"They do them because they don't care and never will!"

"TRIS! Stop saying that because you can't believe that; I won't let you. Yes, your family was torn apart and your brother and father did some unforgivable things to you, but you can't let that get the better of you."

"And how do I do that?" Tori doesn't say anything, probably because she wants to find the right way to say it.

"When's the last time _you_ saw her? Don't you want to see her? You can tell her all about your new home and your friends..."

"Friends?" I say, and I know I'm about to get scolded.

"Don't play that. Whether you think it or not, she's looking out for you and you need to go to her again. You said it yourself, she's all alone. You need to see her... I... I need to see her, too." Now it's her time to cry. We've never talked about it, let alone cried about it. We sit on the ground and let everything we've held in for so long, pour out.

"She was my best friend, and I'm afraid..." She trails off, unable to finish.

"What are you afraid of?" I ask, and she takes a deep breathe.

"She's dead, and all I have left of her is the voice in my head, and I'm afraid that voice will fade away and I won't be able to hear it."

"That will never happen." I say half-heartedly because I've thought the same thing myself. "Whenever I'm afraid I'll forget, I draw her. Seeing her on the page laughing... Well, I can hear her laugh."

"Does that work?"

"It's worked enough for this long." A silence falls on us. We're both used to the silence. For me, it's been a part of me that I excepted a long time ago. Silence is a part of being alone. For Tori, the silence has been bestowed on her. Her best friend was ripped away, and now we have the chance to go back, but am I ready?

"Do you really think I'm ready? I mean it."

"I do. You may not see it, but I can. The trip isn't for a while, a lot can change in that time..."

"Things could get worse."

"You can't believe that."

"...No, I can't. But it still rings in the back of my mind." I think of my scars hidden under the heavy sweatshirt I wear. I don't think of just those, though. I have mental scars, too. Scars that were created around this time only so long ago. Scars that remind me of betrayal and those horrible days sitting under a microscope. The place that my father sent me to; one I didn't want to go to. The needle marks still spot my skin.

"If I go back, I'll be faced with all the bad memories..."

"And the good ones. You can make new good memories, too."

I sigh. "I tried so hard to run out of that city as fast as I could, now it's pulling me back in."

"Does that mean you'll go?"

"At the moment... maybe. I need to think about it."

"But, you'll go..."

"We'll see." But my mind is already made up.

* * *

**A/N: Here is the answer to the last chapter: **_"'I told you, it's a long story.' 'I'd like to hear it.' 'I don't like to tell it.'"_** From the movie **_Trouble With The Curve_**. The one in this chapter is from a TV show.**

**And to all of you who have read **_Allegiant_**... DON'T SAY ANYTHING YET! It's a LONG story, but in short, I haven't read it yet... I am starting it later today. So if anyone says anything I will hold back my updates! I heard it is cry city and it's good and horrible and... yeah. So we'll see.**

**I want to thank all the people who have said such nice things and who've been patient with me. My surgery went well, even though the pain was really bad. (But that is what drugs are for! Doctor proscribed, of course.) I'll try to update as soon as I can, and I'll read a certain book... Maybe the update will take time again. Just a warning you all! Also, to the guest reviewer who asked if I lived in Ohio... the answer's yes. This did not effect my decision to have Caleb go to Michigan, that was chosen by you all. I put up a poll on my profile that asked which school should Caleb and Peter go to, and Michigan won. There is another one up right now and it would be nice you know the majority's opinion on it! Please vote and review!**

**Be brave, everyone!**


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